The Blue Winter Rose
by bloomsburry
Summary: After he sacrificed himself to save the lives of many, Harry Potter was ready for the Afterlife. However, what he didn't expect was for Death to give him another chance to live in another world. Reborn as the only daughter of Rickard Stark, Harry grew up as Lyanna Stark; the girl who would become the catalyst for the wars to come.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter and A Song of Ice and Fire, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from writing this story.

 **AN:** This story is unbetaed so I sincerely apologize for the grammatical errors that I failed to notice. O.O

* * *

 **PROLOGUE**

 _**Crack** _

Harry James Potter appeared in the middle of a crowded boulevard after he had narrowed down the exact location of his quarry.

There was a round of surprised gasps and screams from the muggles the instant he appeared in their midst, but he paid them no mind and immediately leaped into action.

With his wand in hand, he barrelled right through the shock bystanders, pushing them away from him; blazing emerald eyes focused on the greasy mop of hair, whom he identified as his target.

"Get out of the way!" Harry shouted at the people as he gave chase, "I SAID MOVE!"

Sprinting and leaping past people, who had fallen down on the ground after he had inadvertently shoved them away. Harry felt mildly guilty at his actions, though it was nothing compared to the riot of worry churning in his stomach.

 _There are too many people around here. The body count will be numerous if that bastard throws that vial._

Harry weaved this way and that, trying to wade through the bustle of human bodies. Some people cursed and hollered at him. Yet he ignored them all, still continuing to yell, "MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!"

When people heard his yells and saw him dashing towards them, the sea of daily grinders and tourist alike, cleared a path for him. Their eyes wide in either curiosity, confusion and alarm when Harry darted through them.

However, Harry's eyes were only glued upon the tall figure, who tried to blend into the crowd, but ultimately failed to do so.

Derek Lovatt, of course, couldn't completely shake him off.

Harry had the wizard tagged earlier right before the potion brewer had broken through his leg-locking charm, and then apparated away. The locator spell had afterwards led Harry to this location; a crowded sidewalk, in broad daylight, and teeming with so many muggle-witnesses around.

It was a catastrophe bound to happen, especially when Lovatt was carrying that volatile potion that the dark wizard had taken from the Malfoy's Brewery; a new explosive concoction that the prestigious family had kept under wraps until someone had tipped the Aurors off.

Harry, and others from the Auror Division, had swept into the place and raided the cellars where they had made the explosives; tearing off wards and blasting through doors to enter the premise as they did so.

They had detained most of the men, except for the Potioneer, who was now making a run for it, and who was stupid enough to try and cross the busy street.

 _Fuck!_ Harry thought, stepping out of the curb and right into the middle of the road to follow the foolish wizard.

 _**BEEP! BEEP!** _

A car sharply swerved away from him, honking loudly as Harry cut through the main street.

"HEY WATCH IT!" He saw a taxi driver call out at Lovatt, when the man was nearly ran over by the taxi cab.

 _**BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!** _

Other vehicle owners started blowing their horns angrily. Despite the danger of being hit by a car, Harry didn't take his eyes off the fugitive, who was clumsily maneuvering around the moving vehicles.

Some cars veered into the sidewalk but most slammed into each other from behind or on the sides.

People began shouting and screaming in panic.

"WHAT'S GOING ON?!"

"OH MY GOD!"

"He's almost run over by the car!"

It was becoming a huge pile up while more and more muggles in the area were drawn to the commotion. The chase was getting dangerous. If one of those cars would hit Lovatt, and accidentally have that potion dropped into the ground, it would be the end of it.

Everything within three blocks from there would be engulfed in flames and the scale of human casualty would be insurmountable.

Harry must stop him before it would happen. So, Harry ran. His heart hammering fast against his rib cage while adrenaline thundered in his veins.

The sound of wheels squealing against the asphalt could be heard along with the shouts of fear and confusion from the civilians. It added to the cacophony of noises in the area.

He smelled burnt rubber as he jumped over the hood of an unmoving car. It had been careening in his direction before it had come to a screeching stop in front of him. A tendril of white smoke emitting from the wheels as he leaped.

"YOU IMBECILE!" Harry heard the SUV driver yelling at him while Harry ran on top of his car. The car bobbing up and down as he bounded over, his steps thudding on the metallic hood of the red SUV.

 _THUMP- THUMP- THUMP- THUMP-THUMP_

His foot hit the ground a moment later. He immediately rolled out of the way when another car suddenly appeared to his left. Regardless, the black sedan bumped him hard, but not enough to send him crashing to the ground.

Harry staggered for a bit at the impact, losing a few precious seconds as he tried to regain his footing.

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU MAN?!" the owner of the car shouted after rolling his tinted window down. "GET THE FUCK OF THE ROAD!"

Once again, Harry ignored the muggle and broke into a sprint.

Considering the danger of what the potion could do the civilians within the vicinity, Harry was now tempted to simply apparate and stun Lovatt.

The Statue of Secrecy be damned.

There were already half a dozen muggles who had witnessed him apparating on sight. Surely the Ministry would understand if he use magic in front of these people? After all, the Obliviators could always alter the memories of the eye-witnesses present.

Still, if Harry did apparate and tried to stun Lovatt, the man might dropped the potion purposely and kill everyone and destroy everything within three blocks from there.

Lovatt had chosen this location for a reason.

Harry must act fast. There was no other choice but engage the fugitive directly.

Spotting the only man wearing a tattered robe, he concentrated on the place just ahead and hastily apparated.

 _**CRACK** _

Harry popped back in, just between two cars, which was already in standstill due to the ongoing pile-up.

Lovatt was just six paces away when Harry appeared.

He saw the man's scrawny hand twitched around the potion tightly. Lovatt raised his hand up a scant inches, and was about to throw it down when Harry made his move.

At well past thirty, Harry Potter was at his prime. Leanly muscled from the years of chasing Dark Wizards and the last stragglers from the last war, Harry reacted without a second thought.

" _ **Accio Potion!"**_ he thought, and the potion instantly came sailing towards him.

Its contents a swirling purple pool within the small vial. The sight of it made Harry felt frightened at the possibility that it might explode from the abrupt movement.

What Harry did not expect, however, was for Lovatt to cast a _Reducto_ curse at the potion while it was still flying.

" _ **Reducto!"**_

 _Shit!_ Harry thought in alarm. His wand already flicking for a shield charm, when the door of the car beside him suddenly opened. The door slammed into him, Harry's shield charm disintegrated.

"What in -!" he heard the muggle say.

However, with lightning-fast speed, Harry's hand moved to cast one final spell that came to his mind, _**"Stupefy!"**_

A red light shot from his wand and towards Lovatt. He wasn't able to see what happened next as the vial reached his hand.

But the Reducto curse was not too far behind.

The curse hit him squarely in the chest, blasting him away. Fiery pain radiated from the new wound. He could almost feel his skin blister, the scent of burnt flesh and cloth hit his nostril a second later. Involuntarily, his grip on the vial tightened. He felt it crack from the pressure. Its contents swirled and shook, and then it began to glow within his hand.

Bright, purple light emitted from between his fingers, while he could feel the small, spiderweb crack of the vial begin to widen. The light from the vial bathed his entire hand in a violet hue and made his veins visible.

At once, Harry knew that the vial was about to explode. His heart stuttered at the thought.

Harry didn't hesitate.

Within half a second, he made a decision that would save many lives.

 _I'm sorry, Ginny…._ was Harry's last thought as he gripped the vial and apparated away from there, away from the muggle area teeming with so many innocent lives, and appeared into a deserted location where the superheated vial instantly detonated.

 _**BOOOOOOOOOOOOMM!** _

It seemed that not too long ago, when he, Hermione and Ron had set a camp there, after leaping from the back of the dragon during the War.

Now, the explosion engulfed the entire area, incinerating everything in its path… along with the Boy-Who-Lived, who failed to escape in time.

...

There was the blinding light at first. Afterwards, he could only feel the all-consuming heat, the flare of pain, and then…. _nothing_.

* * *

In the darkness, he floated….Dead to the world, until a sense of awareness trickled into him.

He heard someone speaking to him, with a voice so cold like the winter, and deep like the dark abyss that kept him.

"As the one to have successfully joined the three hollows…and the one who had destroyed the wand that holds the power to control me. I will give you one chance at life. One chance to live in another World...Now, be reborn… Harry Potter."

He heard the voice said, before he was engulfed in a warm, white light.

* * *

 **TO BE CONTINUED**

* * *

 **Author's Note:** This story has been in my computer since February. I have the plot in my mind, but I find writing this story challenging, especially when I only read the first book of the song of Ice and Fire...and my writing style is...atrocious...I apologize. I kinda wish that there's a machine out there that can write down the things you imagine. And like my other stories, I've also made a banner and book cover for this story. You can check them out on my profile under the "The Blue Winter Rose part". Or if you have any question or concern, you can message me here, or in my twitter (dhazellouise24) or in my tumblr account.(bloosmburry-dhazellouise dot tumblr dot com) So please don't hesitate to tell me what you think ^^


	2. Forget Me Not

They said, when people died, memories of their lives would flash before their eyes.

And they weren't wrong.

But they weren't right either.

Harry saw no flashes of memories.

He only saw one important memory...

Right before the darkness claimed him and the memory faded.

Until everything he ever knew were completely forgotten.

.

 **CHAPTER 1: FORGET ME NOT**

.

 _He was in the forbidden forest again, surrounded by Death Eaters and with Voldemort standing in front of him._

 _And he was about to die._

 _A streak of green light was already headed in his direction, too fast and too close for him to avoid in time._

 _It was inevitable when the curse hit him squarely in the chest and killing him instantly._

Harry jerked awake with a gasp, sitting straight up from the bed with his legs tangled with the bed sheet.

His wife, Ginny, was there at once to calm him down.

"Sshhh…sshhh, Harry," She murmured soothingly, rubbing a hand over his back where Harry could feel the trickle of perspiration sticking against his shirt.

"Sshh…It's ok, it's ok…just a nightmare, Harry, just a nightmare, come here and lie back down. It's going to be alright…" Ginny was saying to him.

Harry's heart was still thundering wildly against his chest. His breathing was uneven when he slowly settled back down on the bed.

"Was it in the forbidden forest this time?" he heard Ginny asked, propping herself on her elbow to look at him.

"Yes." He responded, his voice came out hoarse as he placed a hand over his forehead where his scar used to be. He didn't feel any throbbing pain, but he still rubbed his fingers over the unmarked skin like he usually did when his scar hurt.

Ginny didn't say anything. She simply tightened her hold around him, and after a moment, she began to sing.

"Day and night they fought, yet enemies they were not.

But lovers with a secret song guarded in their hearts.

They danced between the darkness and the light,

Between love and hate, the agony and delight."

Harry allowed Ginny's mellifluous voice to wash over him. His wife always sung to him every time he had a terrible nightmare. Listening to her helped Harry settle his chaotic thoughts and drive away the inexplicable fear that those nightmares would often bring to the surface of his mind.

The war was over, yet the scars remained. Broken bones and injuries of the body took time to heal, but the wounds of the mind took longer, even the scars still held the echo of the lost and suffering he had gone through.

Harry closed his eyes, listening to his wife sing and trying to forget the images that still haunted him to this day.

The memory of him dying alone, sacrificing himself to spare the lives of many.

Harry never wanted to die alone again.

He continued to listen to Ginny sing until the wild drumming of his heart slowed and beat in time with hers.

.

The cold, morning breeze made gnarled tangles out of his already ruffled jet-black hair as Harry flew on his broomstick, zooming past the forested area just behind the two-story house that he and Ginny had bought since they had gotten married.

He always liked to set out flying early in the morning, to clear his head after a restless night.

Ginny's singing had soothed back the first flood of unwanted memories, but flying in his broom had always swept away the rest of it to the deep recess of his mind, where he hoped those memories would forever remain undisturbed.

It was winter, but it didn't stop him from taking to the skies as he always did in the morning when he wasn't at work.

Despite the nearly freezing temperature that brought a bright flush to his cheeks, and made his breath mist when he exhaled, Harry immersed himself to the joy of flying.

Ginny had warned him that the visibility might be thick this time around and had advised him not to go flying at a high altitude.

However, Harry didn't heed his wife's advice and shot up towards the skies, spiraling through the clouds with the biting wind buffeting his flight.

He could hardly see from up there, even when he had cast a spell on his glasses to keep it from fogging up. Yet it didn't dull the thrill he usually felt from riding the fastest broom that came out that year.

A slight pressure on the handle, and he was shooting downwards once more, nosediving sharply towards the wintry landscape below. The wind pressing tightly against his skin, cold and unforgiving while his emerald eyes were glittering with exhilaration as he neared the top of the trees.

With another sharp pull, he brought his broom to a sudden halt before he could crash in to the trees. Soon enough, he was zipping horizontally above the tree line, his foot nearly brushing the pine needles while a wide grin formed across his lips.

By the time he climbed off his broom, Harry was already smiling, no longer troubled.

He dropped by the greenhouse situated at the left side of the house.

Ginny had gotten the hobby of properly maintaining the garden from Mrs. Weasley, who had always preferred to grow her own vegetables and flowers in the Burrow.

Before Harry had bought the house, Ginny had suggested a greenhouse added to their home, explaining that it would be very convenient for them to have one, especially during winter.

Harry had agreed, of course, provided that Ginny wouldn't be placing garden gnomes as well. He recalled how his wife had laughed at his words.

As he entered the greenhouse, Harry instantly made his way to the flowerbeds. He carefully took a handful of one particular flower and made a small bouquet. Then, he headed back inside the house.

He followed the sound of his wife's voice. Harry could hear her singing and silently mused that Albus must have woken up early that morning and Ginny was feeding their son.

Placing his hand behind his back, he hid the flowers that he had taken from the green house. Harry halted just outside the open doorway of the nursery room, only stepping forward to lean his shoulder against the door frame.

He watched as his wife sang their first born son to sleep. Ginny had a beautiful voice, Harry discovered this when Ginny was asked to perform in one of those Ministry parties five years ago.

Ginny had always been a talented witch, nearly good in everything she set her mind to, even in Quidditch and in her line of work as a sports editor for the Daily Prophet. Thus, it didn't come as a shock to Harry when Ginny could sing as well.

Warmth and tenderness bloomed inside his chest as he continued to gaze lovingly at his wife and son. Ginny was cradling Albus in her arms and was rocking from side to side, singing softly to the tune that he had become familiar with.

Seeing them like this, in this achingly familiar setting, Harry felt the strong protective instinct surged inside him. He wouldn't let anyone turn this picture into ash like Voldemort had done before. He vowed that he would do everything he could to protect his family.

At last, Ginny gently laid their sleeping son back in the crib and Harry strolled silently towards her.

"Good morning," He greeted, wrapping his arms around his wife, hugging her from behind. He nuzzled her head, basking in her warmth and inhaling the scent which he loved so much; the scent of flowers that naturally clung to his wife.

He heard her soft giggle before Ginny answered, "Good morning, Harry."

A smile tagged at the corners of his mouth as he promptly showed her the flowers that he had plucked from their greenhouse.

A bouquet of ** _forget-me-nots._**

Ginny's favorite.

"What's this?"

"For the blue of your eyes," He said in jest, placing his chin on top of her head and tightening his hold around her.

"My eyes aren't blue, Harry." Ginny responded in amusement, turning around to look at her husband, showing him exactly that her eyes weren't, in fact, blue.

Ginny's eyes were hazel.

Harry just smiled sheepishly.

Ginny regarded him for a second until she must have notice the flush on his cheeks and the light dusting of snowflakes on his hair and clothes.

"You've been out flying again, haven't you?" She asked.

"Yes," Harry admitted, looking chagrin.

Ginny let out a soft chuckle. His wife knew him too well.

"You always bring me forget-me-nots every time you came after your flying, Harry. So I know you've been out, even when I warn you not to. How was the visibility today?"

"You were right about the visibility, Ginny. No need to worry though." Harry assured her.

Despite the poor visibility, flying up to see the breathtaking view of his home was worth it. Harry wanted to see the grey and white sprawl of it above the clouds where he could feel the kiss of the cold wind brushing against his cheeks.

His home looked beautiful during Winter.

* * *

 _In the darkness, he floated….Dead to the world, until a sense of awareness trickled into him._

 _He heard someone speaking to him, with a voice so cold like the winter, and deep like the dark abyss that kept him._

 _"As the one to have successfully joined the three hollows…and the one who had destroyed the wand that holds the power to control me. I will give you one chance at life. One chance to live in another World...Now, be reborn… Harry Potter."_

 _He heard the voice said, before he was engulfed in a warm, white light._

* * *

 **Winterfell**

 **266 AC**

"My Lord,"

Rickard Stark turned around and stopped pacing. His eyes settled on the Maester standing at the open doorway of the birthing chamber.

The worry must have been plain on Rickard's face for Maester Walys assured him, "Everything went well, my Lord. You and your wife have been blessed with a beautiful daughter."

At the old man's words, Rickard hurriedly strode towards the door while asking, "How are they?"

"They are both fine, my Lord. However, I had to give Lady Lyarra the milk of the poppy for the pain."

Rickard halted beside the Maester, putting a hand on the man's shoulder and said to him.

"Thank you, Maester Walys. Thank you for ensuring that my wife and daughter are well taken care of."

"It's always been an honor to serve your House, my Lord."

.

Rickard Stark sat carefully on the bed beside his wife. He gently brushed a strand of hair from Lyarra's forehead. She looked tired, with perspiration still dotting her brows, but otherwise, his wife appeared to be happy, gazing down on the babe she was currently nursing at her breast.

"What shall we name her?" He whispered, looking at his newborn daughter.

Rickard couldn't see much of his daughter's face, but he could see the soft dark brown hair on the babe's head; the same hair color as Lyarra's.

"Lyanna..." Lyarra murmured, "Lyanna Stark."

"Lyanna Stark," He repeated, "A fitting name for a daughter, who I believe, will take most of her looks from her beautiful mother. Beautiful and enduring as the rose that blooms in Winter."

Lyarra laughed softly and said, "While she may have my looks, though I believe our daughter will surely have your temperament, dear husband. Honorable and stubborn to a fault."

Rickard smiled lovingly at his wife and gave Lyarra a peck on the cheek.

"Lyanna is perfect."

 **.**

Rickard and Lyarra Stark soon discovered that Lyanna was no ordinary child. Their daughter seemed to develop much faster than Brandon and Ned at her age. She could crawl and sit up not even four months after she was born, and could walk and stand without assistance a month after.

By the time ten moons had passed, Lyanna could run, climb the stairs, speak a few words and follow simple instruction.

Her progress was astonishing. Lyanna learned fast at the first or second attempt.

Maester Walys remarked that the House Stark was blessed with an intelligent progeny. The old man had even gone on to say that Lyanna's development was similar to that of Prince Rhaegar, who had started reading scrolls and tomes not even past his sixth name day. Prince Rhaegar had clearly impressed the Maesters with his wits.

Lyanna's quick development no longer seemed to look so unusual after that.

.

 **268 AC**

Lyarra started teaching Lyanna her letters and only allowing Brandon and Ned to play with their little sister when Lyanna lost interest in her lessons. The two-year-old girl equally learned from her brothers as Lyanna learned from her.

And at night, Old Nan would tell Lyanna bedtime stories of the North.

The tales of Brandon the Builder, the Night's King and the Others were Lyanna's favorite most of all.

Lyanna was not so easily scared like most other children.

.

Both Brandon and Ned doted on Lyanna, nearly spoiling her with their attention, and Lyanna, in turn adored them.

If Lyanna wasn't toddling after her older brothers, Lyarra sometimes saw her daughter following Old Nan's great-grandson, Wylis - the stableboy - who was said to have giant's blood.

The old woman must have introduced the boy to Lyanna at some point.

At around seven years old, Wylis nearly towered any full grown man, and Lyanna appeared to have taken a genuine interest on the gentle lad, calling him, "Hagger," every time her daughter saw the boy.

The boy had no heart to correct Lyanna of course, as others would have want to do, even until the day Lyanna started calling him by a different name.

"Hagrid."

Even then, Wylis - the gentle giant - would simply smile and welcome Lyanna as he always did when she came to see the horses.

.

But it was Ned who had been the one to tell Lyanna to stop calling Wylis by a false name as it would offend the tall boy.

"Call him by his true name, Lyanna. He is your friend. You should remember his given name," her brother had gently reprimanded her and Lyanna had done so since then.

* * *

 **271 AC**

On her fifth name day, Lyanna was given a pony.

She was beyond delighted as she had been wanting to ride a horse of her own. She had learned how to put on the saddle by observing Wylis who didn't mind teaching her.

Now, she had a pony to ride, though it would be sometime for her to put the saddle on her own pony as it was far too heavy for her to carry still.

And in one day, Lyanna learned how to ride.

She took to it like she was born on the saddle.

When her older brother, Brandon, had asked what she was going to name her pony, Lyanna had answered without hesitation: "Buckbeak."

Brandon had laughed at the name she had chosen.

"You always come up with such odd names, Lyanna. Why ever did you choose this one?" Her brother had asked in complete puzzlement.

"Because – because Buckbeak is a half-horse and half-eagle and I want my pony to be one. I want to fly in the sky and see Winterfell from above, or ride in the wolfswood and even go beyond the Wall. I want a mount that can do both and take me anywhere in all the far reaches of the world as I please," Lyanna had said, allowing her childish fancy to run amok as she had explained the things she saw in her mind, of words that sometimes floated inside her head, seemingly out of nowhere; or shadowy glimpses of things and flashes of knowledge that she knew she should remember.

Even if Lyanna could manage to arrange the pieces together, more and more came to her, turning the context of them into complete disarray and became much harder for Lyanna to understand.

"You need a Dragon, Lyanna." Brandon had said to her, "Not a pony for you to ride and travel the way you wanted to. But considering all Dragons are dead, well… perhaps Buckbeak will do for you, though you won't be able to go farther than the wolfswood."

"They are not dead." Lyanna had protested then.

"What aren't dead?"

"The Dragons." She had frowned. "You said the Dragons are dead."

"They are dead, had been since more than a hundred years." Brandon had argued back.

"No, they aren't. They are still alive. The Targaryens are the blood of the Dragons, are they not?"

"Yes, but –"

"Then, the Dragons are still alive, Brandon, for I believe they will only cease to exist when the lines from of old Valyria are completely gone from this world."

.

It became a habit for Lyanna to ride out in the glade early in the mornings, and Wylis was always there to assist her without fail, holding the reins for her while she climbed up her horse.

Lyanna made certain to express her gratitude every time he helped her.

"Thank you, Wylis." She would always tell her friend and he would smile and say, "Your welcome, m'lady."

And then, she would go riding off through the gates and out of Winterfell with the company of either her older brothers or father

.

The cold wind was a biting caress against her skin, making Lyanna's face flush red as she led her horse into a fast gallop across the glade. Her long black hair fluttering behind her in gentle waves with the wind making gnarl tangles out of it.

Immersing herself to the joy of riding, she turned her eyes skywards, towards the thick brumous clouds she could see hanging far, far above her.

And suddenly, Lyanna was struck by an overwhelming need to fly, a terrible and deep longing to hover among the clouds while she gazed upon the world with no worries and simply forget the terrible nightmares that plague him at -

"Lyanna! Watch where you are going, young lady!"

Lyanna's eyes snapped open when she heard her father called out a warning from behind her. Instantly, she realized that she was no longer holding the reins. She had allowed herself to be swept by her imagination that she had stretch both of her arms on either side of her like she was, indeed, flying. With her face upturned towards the skies and with her eyes closed, she had savored the rush of wind against her face that she didn't see the direction where Buckbeak had taken.

If her father hadn't called out to warn her, she would have fallen off her horse as Buckbeak was galloping down a steep slope.

Hastily, Lyanna took the reins and braced herself on her saddle.

She prodded Buckbeak with her knees to slow down to a canter and change direction.

Lyanna led her horse up to where she could see a smattering of green amidst grey and white. And as she draw near towards it, Lyanna finally saw the flowers.

Something niggled at the back of her mind at the sight of them.

Lyanna frowned.

Pulling Buckbeak to an abrupt halt, Lyanna jumped from the horse and walked towards the patch of green.

Soon enough, Lyanna was crouching low and perusing the bouquet of flowers in her hand. Her brows were knitted into a deep frown as she inspected the flower which had five petals and a yellow ring at the center.

It looked familiar to her.

But the color was wrong.

It wasn't blue, but white.

Lyanna sensed that she was standing close at the edge of a new discovery, a mystery that she needed to solve, a hidden knowledge that was waiting for her to unravel.

She had only to leap over the precipice and see what awaited her in the icy cold abyss.

.

"What are you looking for, Lyanna?"

Lyanna looked up towards her Lord father who had climbed off his horse to stand beside her crouched form.

"I'm looking for a flower father." She responded.

She had been so distracted in leading her horse from one place to the other around the glade - and beyond - that she hadn't realize that her Lord father was still following her.

Her father considered her for a short moment before asking, "What might it look like?"

"It's blue and small, around this size," she curled her index finger towards her thumb to show him the exact size, "- and with a yellow circle in the middle." She described, looking at her father with the hope that he knew what she was talking about.

"I don't believe I've seen those kind of flowers in the North, child." Her father answered gently.

Her hope was instantly crushed. For reason unknown to her, finding the flower was very important.

It was vital that she did or she would lose something that she couldn't even remember of possessing.

"It must be here. I swear I've seen it somewhere here before. It must be somewhere here." She said, her voice breaking.

She swallowed through the tightness in her throat as her grey eyes searched the glade for other possible areas that she had missed. The North had a great stretch of land, and even if it takes years to search for it, Lyanna would do so.

Something was tagging at her to remember.

"Do you, by any chance, know the name of the flower, Lyanna?" Her father inquired, gently placing a hand on Lyanna's shoulder to make her look at him.

She did and stared at her father, feeling the burning beneath her lids that warned her of the tears that was about to spill.

"I don't know. I don't know. I forgot, but it's a blue flower, father. Help me find it. I need to find it. I need to. This is very important to me. I have to remember. I have to -" She broke off, rubbing her eyes to dash away the tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.

Her behavior must have alarm her father as she saw his worried expression, and Lyanna wanted to cry when the feeling of helplessness came over her, of not remembering something which she should never have forgotten.

.

"Here, Lyanna." Her father handed her a flower, which she assumed he must have taken from the glass garden.

Lyanna stared at the blue rose, a frown knitting her brows. She raised her eyes back to her father in a silent question.

"Yesterday… as I watched you gallop about in the glade with no regards to your direction, and in search for a flower that I have never heard or seen of, you have given me reason to worry, Lyanna," her father explained.

Lyanna lowered her head in shame, holding the stem of the rose tightly between her fingers.

There was moment of silence as she could sense her Lord father's gaze.

Her father must have taken pity on her as Lyanna heard him speaking softly this time.

"We don't have the kind of flower you were looking for, child. There's only one blue flower that grows in the North."

Lyanna stared at the pale blue rose in her hand. It was beautiful but -

"It's called the winter rose."

She didn't say anything.

"The winter rose symbolizes faithfulness and enduring love." He informed her and waited for her to react.

For awhile, Lyanna stared at the rose before she finally answered, "Thank you, father."

In response, she saw her father nodding his head and there after made her promise.

"Promise me, Lyanna, that you won't go looking for the flower which I believe you must have only seen in your dreams or imagine it. Don't give me, or your Lady Mother, a reason to worry, Lyanna. The winter rose if far better. It is known for its capacity to survive the longest and harshest of winter. Keep it, and perhaps one day, you may grow to love the the rose just like your mother. It is your mother's favorite flower after all."

With her face downcast, Lyanna said solemnly.

"I promise father. The winter rose is beautiful...and I believe it shall become my favorite flower as well."

Once her father had left her rooms, Lyanna sat there staring at nothing, still holding the rose between her fingers.

She felt she had lost something, but in her search, she found something else instead.

Something new and beautiful.

Something she would grow to love in time.

* * *

 **272 AC**

Lyanna's mother was with child.

Maester Walys had informed the family that her mother was in a very delicate condition and must remain bedridden.

"Will you take care of the flowers in the glass garden, Lyanna?" her mother had asked when Lyanna came to visit her.

"Yes, mother," had been her sad response.

Thereafter, Lyanna took care of the flowers like her mother often loved to do.

.

Lyanna and her father were heading back after their morning ride in the glade when she told him, "Father, may we drop by the glass garden to get flowers for mother?"

"Of course, Lyanna. I'm sure your mother will be happy to see them."

Later, she entered her mother's bedchamber with her hands behind her back.

"Mother, I have something for you!" Lyanna said brightly.

"What is it dear?" her mother asked while she propped herself amongst the pillows and beckoned for Lyanna to come closer.

Lyanna walked swiftly towards her.

"A rose." She said with a smile, showing her mother the thing she had been hiding behind her.

"For the blue of your eyes mother." Lyanna said in jest, looking into her mother's dark blue eyes.

"Thank you, Lyanna." Her Lady mother murmured, taking the winter rose from Lyanna's hand.

"The winter rose has always been my favorite… as you are, my dear charming daughter."

There was a soft smile on her mother's lips when she said this and Lyanna felt quite happy for putting it there.

.

Her little brother, Benjen, was born.

However, her mother remained ill and had never left her rooms ever since.

Every time Lyanna came back from her morning rides, she made certain to drop by in the glass garden and pick a winter rose for her mother.

.

No more than a moon turns after, Lyanna's mother died.

And like everyone did when their love ones were gone, they all grieved.

"Lyanna is always in the glass garden," Ned remarked to Brandon one day.

For his part, Brandon's face fell and said to his younger brother morosely, "It's her own way of grieving, Ned. Let her be. Our Lady mother had always love those flowers. Lyanna must have felt the need to keep and take care of them in memory of her."

 **.**

And so, as the years passed by, Lyanna Stark had finally grown to love the blue winter rose.

* * *

 **273 AC**

Lyanna was seven when she started having strange dreams.

 _The place was beyond repair, with collapsed walls, uneven blackened ground - as if the placed had been set alight by hellfire – while some areas were flooded with stagnant, murky water._

 _It was a desolate place, **a frightening place,** when she sensed the ghost that lingered there, shades of the dead trying to grab for her while she made her escape from what she thought was hell. _

_She ran and ran through the empty halls of the huge fortress. The sensed of doom licking at her heels. The walls closing in around her until it resembled a darkened tunnel._

 _Some **thing** was watching her. She could feel its powerful gaze pressing on her back, causing the small hairs on her nape to stand on end. There was ice creeping up her spine like cold fingers waiting for her to make the terrible mistake of looking back. _

_And if she did, the thing that waited in the dark would drag her down, down, down below the earth, where the sun didn't shine to shove her amongst the dead._

 _Her lungs and legs were starting to burn, she ignored it as best she could and kept on running. There was a permanent scream lodge in her throat when she could no longer ignore the terror taking root in her mind. It grew still like a writhing darkness stretch out to trap her there.  
_

 _When she thought there was no end to the tunnel, and as she began to despair, that was when she heard it._

 _The most beautiful sound she had ever heard._

 _A song._

 _It was a haunting song telling her to, **'come, follow me, and never look back.'**_

 _And she did._

 _Hope bloomed within her and she ran faster, following the sound she could hear in the distance.  
_

 _The coldness that had crept up her spine receded with every step she took towards the sound. The music and the person's voice was calling for her and she followed it all the way out of the darkness._

 _When she finally rounded the corner and stepped out into the light, her steps faltered, nearly tripping over when her eyes fell upon a person leaning and sitting at the foot of the tree._

 _Sunlight caught the silver of his hair, his face was sunkissed-gold, and his sad eyes were the color of crushed violets beneath white-gold lashes. The lines of his face were perfectly symmetrical. He had a thin long nose, high cheekbones, a strong jawline and finely-molded mouth. But there was grief hanging over him like an ominous thunder cloud. She could feel it in his music as the man sung and pluck the strings of his silver harp._

 _The man's voice was a rich tenor, dulcet yet full of velvet tones. Though she knew he did not need words to tag at her heartstrings as evocatively and tenderly as the man tagged at his harp, making her remember vaguely of someone she knew before._

 _She stared, her throat constricted when a sense of familiarity swept through her.  
_

 _How long she had stood there staring and listening to him, she did not know. It was only when she felt the tears rolling down her cheeks that she realized that she was crying._

 _Confused and frustrated, she immediately wiped the tears away._

 _There it was again, the feeling of almost, **almost** close to discovering a missing piece of her that she knew she must reclaim. Yet it remained out of reach, taunting her. _

_It made her angry._

 _Clenching her hands, she decided to turn her attention on something else and try to compose herself._

 _Looking around her, she discovered that she was in an orchard, or what resembled of it, as everything was almost overtaken by roots and vines and other overgrown plants. And like the other places she had past in a blur, the walls and ground were scorched by fire, marked by a tragedy she knew not when and how it happened._

 _Then, her eyes went back to the man again who hadn't even glance in her direction._

 _She didn't want to interrupt, but –_

" _Excuse me," she said hesitantly, walking slowly forward._

 _The man didn't look up at the sound of her voice and simply kept playing his harp, although he was no longer singing._

 _Her brows knitted, silently wondering if the man was deaf or he was simply ignoring her on purpose._

 _She supposed it must be the latter, seeing that she was just a child of seven, he must find her presence a nuisance._

 _But she needed to know where she was. She was still lost and didn't know what was going on and the man was the only person she could see in the ruins._

" _Excuse me, Ser." She said loudly, halting in front of him. "I think I might be lost…"_

 _Once more, he didn't show any signs that he heard her as his fingers never did falter from thrumming the strings in his harp._

 _Her frowned deepened._

" _Can you hear me?" She asked, waiting and hoping for him to respond._

 _But like before, he didn't. The man didn't seem to know that she even existed, much less hear her._

" _You can't see me, can you?…" she realized at last, waving a hand in front of the man's face, who didn't so much as blink._

 **_This must be a dream_ ** _, she thought faintly. **I must be in a dream.**_

 _She stood there contemplating what to do next about her situation. If this was a dream, then all she had to do was wake up and she would be out of that place. Although, she didn't know when would that be._

 _Her eyes returned to the man who now had a faraway look gracing his beautiful features, the corners of his mouth pulled down._

 _Curious, she knelt and scrutinized him, indulging herself while she had the time._

 _For a moment, she noted how long his pale lashes were and how his eyes weren't pure indigo at all, but she could see splashes of cobalt and emerald in the sea of violet too, while his irises were ringed with amber._

 _At this close, she began to suspect that the man was a Targaryen. No one with hair that silver-white and eyes in royal purple could be a member of any other house._

" _Who are you?" she murmured, looking him straight in the eyes._

 _The sound of the harp came to an abrupt halt and she nearly toppled over in her haste to get away, when the Targaryen suddenly stood up. His pale brows furrowed while he looked around the ruins, his body coiled tight with tension._

 **_Did he hear me?_ ** _She thought in alarm, skittering away, but froze when the man looked in her direction._

 _For five heart-thumping seconds, she stopped breathing. She stood there unmoving on the spot. However, as soon as the man's eyes strayed away from her and she could finally let out a sigh of relief.  
_

 _When the man had stopped looking so spooked, he sat back down and began to play his harp, though_ _his eyes still fleeted warily around.  
_

 _Thereafter, she decided to keep a safe distance away while she watched him make a song, fascinated by the range of emotions she could see playing on his face, no matter how minuscule they were, like the slight dip on the corner of his mouth belied his displeasure, or the way he tilted his head to the side in deep thought.  
_

 _Later, when the man finally finished._

 _She heard him named his song._

 _There was a small, secretive smile forming on his lips when he said it._

.

Lyanna was in the glass garden and watering the flowers when someone asked, "May I ask the name of the song, m'lady?"

"Song? What song?" She said, blinking at the woman she had seen tending to the vegetables in the other part of the garden.

"The one you were humming, m'lady."

She hadn't even realized that she had been humming.

"Oh, I – I don't know…" Lyanna put the bucket of water on the ground, wiped the dirt off her hands and straightened up.

"I supposed… it's called the _Ghost of Summerhall_?" The name came to her so abruptly that Lyanna frowned, surprised once more at her mind's ability to conjure up names out of thin air like magic.

"I've never heard that song before. Where ever did you hear it, m'lady?"

She stared at the woman for a moment before answering, "I…can't really recall..."

.

 _"Tell me who you are, good Ser, and this will not end in-"_

 _She didn't let him finish his sentence, and the sound of her blade sang yet again as she lunged forward. The sword was too heavy and big for her. However, she compensated by widening her stance and keeping her movements swift, but precise throughout the entire fight. Only resting when needed, and to assess her opponent's movements._

 _The tall man had been using a short sword to parry her attacks. Fortunately, it wasn't made of Valyrian steel, or it would have cut the sword - that she had borrowed from the armory - like it was made of paper._

 _Her opponent parried her outward slash. Their swords met in a clash of steel against steel, but hers was already a bit dulled and rusted, whereas the man's short sword was beautifully crafted; it caught the light of the moon as sparks flew between their blades._

 _Her arms shook, grunting as she strained to keep her sword raised against her opponent's fine blade. At the same time, her foot inched forward, ready to kick the man's knee when his attention was riveted towards the sight of their scraping swords._

 **_SCREEEECH-SCREEECH_ ** _came the sharp, grating noise of their weapons while they tried to overpower each other **.** Her foot was just short from kicking the man when, without warning, she was shoved back. HARD. As if the man knew what she was about to do._

 _She stumbled. The too-large armor that she wore, clanking loudly._

 _"I don't want to fight you. I merely wanted to know who you are…" the man said, advancing on her. His voice now tinged with impatience. His deep indigo eyes glinted with a bit of fire in them._

 _After she had regained her balance, she carefully stepped to the side and avoided getting cornered against the tree that stood behind her. That would be foolish of her if she allowed her adversary to herd her in that direction._

 _"Who are you?" The man repeated, halting just five meters away, violet eyes that she had often seen with kindness in them, were narrowed at the moment._

 _"Why don't you try to knock my helm off, and find out… **princeling**_ **,** _" the voice that came out from beneath her helm was loud, booming and with a strong brogue; a man's voice that she had been using to disguise her identity._

 _"And if I cut off your head by accident?" The handsome man countered, his indigo eyes keeping her in his line of sight, when she began to circle around him._

 _"For which, I'm sure, the King will be too happy to hear once you go back and report to him.." She remarked._

 _The prince fell silent._

 _"Well then, let us not waste any more time with unnecessary talks, when the night is still young and it can use a little bit of song from our swords. Wouldn't you agree, **your highness**_ **?"** _she mocked in the same man's voice._

 _Not waiting for his reply, she charged, closing the distance between them with her stormy grey eyes blazing beneath her visor._

 _But the prince was already ready for her._

 _Indigo eyes met grey, right before their swords clashed once more._

 _Somewhere in the distance, she heard a wolf howled._

.

As the sun reached its zenith in the skies, Lyanna Stark woke up with a sense of purpose.

Lyanna wanted to become a Knight.

However, for her to become one, she must first learn how to wield a sword.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I sincerely apologize for the long wait. I had difficult time writing this chapter because English is not my first language and I try to make it sound British (and Game-of-thronenish), but ugh, it's hard. I think everything in this chapter came out forced.

Of course, I would also like to thank those who have reviewed, favorited and followed this story. I'm glad you like the prologue but I'm now certain no one would want to continue reading since this chapter is such a…blah.. But thank you all the same.


	3. I Open at the Close

**Æ**

 _"A song, little dragon, and I'll tell you more of the truth of what lay beneath the shadows of the great tragedy."_

 _"But I have yet to learn how to play an instrument..."_

 _"With delicate fingers such as yours, a harp will do for you. Learn to play it and you may return here, and I will teach you the songs of trees and rivers and stones, as I will tell you more of your prophecies."_

* * *

It had been more than a week since Lyanna had woken up feeling invigorated – no, _purposeful_ when something managed to slip past her nebulous dreams.

After the death of her Lady mother, Lyanna had spent her time mourning for more than a year, brooding constantly, dwelling on the past and falling into an ambedo. Her mind had been full of regrets then and she had felt an explicable desire to somehow turn back time and save her mother from certain death.

It was only through a susurrus words of 'Knight' and 'Tree' when her tranced-like state was broken; a splash of icy clarity that shock her into waking up. Whatever she had dreamt the night a week ago must be something very important and urgent to change her, and for Lyanna to feel that she must do something better with her time than succumb to moments of depression.

And for this reason, Lyanna was in the solar with her father again. This would be the third time she came to ask her father with the same request.

For the master-at-arms to teach her the ways with the sword.

Lyanna had tried to pick the right moment when her father was in a better mood, hoping for her father to finally accept, but it was rare these days to see her Lord father even come close to being happy.

When her Lady mother had died, it affected her father more than she could and her brothers imagined. There were more grey streaks on Lord Rickard Stark's hair than there were before while the frown on her father's face had become permanently etched.

With her mother gone, Lyanna had seen her father seek Maester Waly's for counsel, where her mother usually held the position previously. Her father had always preferred to listen to her Lady mother's counsel than anyone else, and only consulting Maester Walys when in need of a second opinion.

However, the death of her Lady mother had changed everything.

Lord Rickard Stark had been a strict father before, but now Lyanna's father had become as immovable as the Wall.

Still, she held to the hope that her father would reconsider her request.

"Please, father. Allow Master Cassel to train me how to fight with a sword," Lyanna implored, her steel-grey eyes beseeching. "Let me train alongside Ned and Brandon. Both have already agreed that they will help me-"

"How many times do I have to tell you Lyanna that I will not allow it." Her father interrupted, casting Lyanna a stern look with his lips pressed into a tight line.

She didn't balk beneath the frigid gaze that her father levelled at her, though the whiteness of her knuckles as she clenched her hands belied the growing trepidation of what she knew would be her father's rejection.

"Fighting are for men, and you are not a man, Lyanna." Her father told her in a sharp tone. "You are a Lady of the House Stark. My one and only daughter. One day you will have a husband of your own, and a household to run, and you can't do that with a sword strapped at your hip. I won't allow my only daughter to embarrass me in front of my banner men and other Lords and Ladies of the realm. My decision is final Lyanna. You are not to learn how to fight with a sword."

She opened her mouth to protest, but her father spoke before she could, leveling her with an icy stare that cut through her as sharply as the Valyrian sword Ice hanging atop the mantel.

"I believe it's time that you are taught the womanly arts and how to become a proper lady," her Lord father informed her all of a sudden in a voice that brook no argument.

Instantly, Lyanna grimaced.

This wasn't something she planned of discussing with her father that very day. She had rather hope to delay the inevitable talk about her becoming a 'proper lady', or of learning the womanly arts.

Lyanna had never felt comfortable with her skin to begin with, which had always been an odd feeling. She itched to tear her skin apart into bloody ribbons, and if she did, mayhap she'll find another person hiding underneath. The iron and the steel. The true her who had never stopped fighting.

She knew that becoming a Lady was not her true calling. No, her true calling lay with the shield and armor and sword. Not simpering beneath fans and wearing dresses and improving her needlework. Her true calling was to defend the weak and protect the realms of men. That was what Lyanna truly believed in.

But to protect the realm from what? She did not know yet, but she knew deep within her that Lyanna was born to become a Knight and nothing else.

Lyanna's dreamed proved that.

Yet her father had other plans for her, it seemed. She had hoped her Lord father had forgotten that she was even a girl after she had purposely taken to wearing her older brother's clothes since she was but five, clothes which her brothers had grown out of. She had worn them instead of the dresses that her Lady mother had the castle's seamstress made for her.

But now, there was no escaping her fate. Lyanna must do the things as expected of her.

She sighed.

"Those are the only skills that I require for you to learn," her father was saying and Lyanna listened to him. "I do plan to find you a suitable husband for you to marry once you become of age, Lyanna. Hence, it is with the utmost importance that you begin your lessons. Am I clear on this, dear daughter?"

She met her father's stare, and after a moment, Lyanna responded gloomily, "Yes, father."

"I will send Old Nan to start teaching you by the morrow. For now, you may do anything you want with your time. However, once your lesson begins, I expect you to attend them. As for your brothers, I have already forbidden them to teach you sword fighting themselves. You need not badger them further as they will know what shall befall on them if they go against my expressed wishes."

Her father stared pointedly at her while Lyanna merely kept silent and waited to be dismiss.

After a while, her Lord father finally said to her, waving his hand. "Now, off with you."

And with a stiff curtsy, Lyanna left her father's solar, though not completely disheartened at her father's decision.

It only made Lyanna more determined to learn.

If her father did not allow Martyn Cassel – the current master-at-arms - to teach her, then Lyanna must learn by herself.

Her Lord father might have forbidden both her brothers to teach her, but there were other ways to train herself.

Through observation, practice, and of course, through reading.

Moreover, her father hadn't specifically ordered Lyanna to stop going near the training yard, so it meant she would still be able to freely watch her brothers train and observe their morning drills.

As for practicing, Lyanna had only to look for an ideal place to practice and try her best not to get caught.

While these plans ran through her mind, Lyanna didn't feel nervous in the least. In fact, she was unnervingly calm.

Something told her that this wasn't exactly the first time that she had gone against the rules.

* * *

 **Æ**

" _A song from you for each whispers I hear from the trees, and with each for you to ponder over while you chase your dreams of dragons."_

* * *

"Do not be angry with your father for sending you to me, child." Old Nan told her by next morn as Lyanna sat there for her first lesson of 'needlework' that she was required to learn.

To catch her interest, the woman started her lesson by suggesting to Lyanna that she drew a sketch first of what Lyanna wanted to make for her first embroidery.

Looking quite skeptical, Lyanna had drawn a rough sketch of a small ball with golden wings. It had been the first thing that flew into her mind and immediately sensed a deeper connection to it.

It was symbol for something that she felt associated with clear blue skies, swift winds, and sweet freedom.

Old Nan found it such an odd thing whereas Lyanna found it to be quite exciting when she could imagine the golden ball fleeting through the air for her to catch and follow.

After looking at the sketch, Lyanna had thrown herself at the task of learning embroidery with an enthusiasm that amused the old woman.

Lyanna wanted to bring the picture to life with both thread and needle. So she had been diligent and meticulous with the details as she did not want to make a mistake when she began working on her embroidery.

The process was slow going but she knew the finished product was well-worth it.

She planned to name it the _golden snitch_ with the words written at the center of the ball, _'I open at the close.'_

Lyanna didn't know what it meant, but it held significance to her somehow.

"Your Lord father is only looking out for your future, child." She heard the other woman said while Lyanna was inserting the needle to form the first line of feather, to prepare it for flight and be free from the confines of a mere fabric.

"He would want to secure a fine match for you someday." Old Nan explained to her. "It is what expected of you as the only daughter of the Warden of the North. This is a duty that you must come to understand, m'lady. Yours is as important as your brothers, who will become banner men and Lords of the North. Yours is to secure alliance to other great Houses which will become beneficial to your family. And for that, you must learn everything you can in regards to managing a household, entertaining guests and other things a Lady must know."

"But I do not want to marry." She responded softly, pausing in her embroidery to look at the woman sitting across from her. "Well, I do…but I don't think I want to marry anyone who I don't love."

"Oh, child." Old Nan said, "Marrying for love is a rare thing for Lords and Ladies. Only a few fortunate nobles get to choose who they want to marry. Highborn ladies, such as yourself, marry out of duty than love. The love only comes after, if you are one of the lucky few to find such a thing in your match."

Lyanna watched as a sad smile graced the woman's lips.

"However, this is only the first day of our lessons. I would not have you feel distraught with talks of marriage. Let us set aside the matter for another time when you are older." Old Nan told her and picked her needle to resume her embroidery.

Lyanna followed suit and took up her own work, slowly lining her thread to the third line of the wing.

"You have much to learn yet." The woman continued, "Take needlework for instance. What do you think of the task, m'lady?"

After a moment of contemplation, Lyanna answered, "Well, it will make for an interesting hobby, if one is not concern with their fingers getting stab oft by a needle."

She looked at her fingers then, where she had accidentally stabbed her needle unto the tender flesh countless times as she tried to attempt in following the pattern of the golden snitch. The speckle of blood on her embroidery was not a good sight to see, yet it couldn't be help. This was Lyanna's first try on her 'needlework' after all.

However, after considering it, Lyanna didn't mind bloodying her fingers as it would mean developing calluses on her fingertips, and a toughened skin could result to a firmer hold. It would become useful when gripping a weapon.

Lyanna's hand twitched, imagining a stick in her hand instead of a sword, which was simply bizarre.

What was the use of a wooden stick?

Old Nan shot her an amused look at her answer.

"Ah, yes, an interesting hobby for creating pretty things. But that is where you are mistaken, m'lady. Needlework is not only a hobby, nor it is about creating art through thread, pouring love upon the task at hand, and mastering your patience... No, needlework is more than that..."

Old Nan paused a moment for effect while Lyanna waited for her to continue.

"Needlework can save lives, m'lady," the woman stared at her. "It can mean life or death."

She met the woman's stare and asked, "How can it save lives?"

The woman smiled then, her eyes twinkling.

Lyanna was startled by the sight of it, something about the twinkle in Old Nan's eyes reminded Lyanna of someone she knew.

"Listen good and well, Lady Lyanna, for there's a lesson to be learn from a story that I'm about to tell you, about a man who brave the bitter cold to hunt a monster with seven heads."

Lyanna carefully set her embroidery down, giving the other woman her full attention.

"One day, in the island called Lorath, in a cave by the sea, there lived an evil and powerful man named Herpo – " her mentor began and Lyanna hanged unto every word Old Nan uttered.

And so it began, Lyanna's journey to learn and arm herself with knowledge in more ways than one.

* * *

 **Æ**

 _"Will you play me the song you made for me, dragon prince? My Jenny's song..."_

* * *

The day went quickly and better than Lyanna had expected, considering the fact that she hadn't been looking forward to her needlework lesson with Old Nan. Yet Old Nan had made her lesson more than what it seemed. The woman made it more interesting as she taught Lyanna the power of kindness and the art of subtlety.

Lyanna's perception about the womanly arts have completely changed. After she listened to Old Nan's tales that held a morale lesson each.

The first one was about a hero who had slain a seven-headed beasts and save his town, using the scales and pelts from the dead monster which he had sewn together for protection against the deep ones.

However, not all the people from the town believed the Hero and accused him to be a liar. They rejected the hero's aid, his magical pelts and scales that he had brought.

And so when the deep ones came, those same people were taken to the sea along with the maze they had built. The fault did not lay in the Hero as he had done what he could to warn and prepare his people for what was to come. The fault lay on the people who did not believe him and who had not taken his kindness well.

" _Always remember that there are still things to be learn from even the simplest and mundane of task, Lady Lyanna."_ Old Nan had told her once she was done telling the tale.

Thereafter, Lyanna took her lesson seriously and made certain to learn everything she could from the woman.

Lyanna would honed each of these skills while always thinking how to apply this knowledge in the future. Her needlework: sewing, knitting, stitching, and such, could be of use to her if she obtained a deep injury. Lyanna could stitch any wounds as deftly and diligently as she could stitch the Stark sigil in her cloak or repair ruin clothing.

Needlework would also improve the dexterity of her fingers. It also enhanced her capacity to focus on the task at hand, her concentration and patience, and her eyesight to capture the details,but most certainly her eye-hand coordination, and to help her remember too. Meanwhile, cultivating her creativity was a mental exercise to bring about new ideas, new perspectives to find a solution, to see the entire picture of a far greater puzzle, to become resourceful, to have more room for progress and innovation, and lastly, not to become too predictable

Creativity could go a long ways of saving lives and ending wars swiftly.

Creativity could be used in _Strategy._

As its root, at its core, the womanly arts could be, in so many ways, be made use for warfare, but wielded and mastered by the fairer sex.

And by the time she realized it, it had been noon and Old Nan had to end her lesson.

The sands on the hour glass had run so quickly and it was night before Lyanna knew it. She had learned new things from Old Nan that day, who told her yet another story of the Last Hero that night and left her room once the woman was done, telling Lyanna that she would see her by the morrow for another tale about the wood witch weaver.

Thereafter, Lyanna dreamt of a place full of mystery.

She dreamed of walking down in a place as big as the great hall of Winterfell, filled with rows upon rows of towering shelves that reach up to the high ceiling; shelves that contained hundreds of small, dusty, glass orbs.

There were orbs which glowed with an inner light while others were dark and dull. She saw candles that were set in brackets at intervals along the shelves. The flames burned blue and the room was very cold. Somewhere above her, she heard a draft of wind howling softly that sent a shiver racing down her spine.

Still, she walked.

This place held a certain mystery to Lyanna that she couldn't even begin to grasp. Yet somehow she knew she had been there before as her legs moved of their own accord, retracing a path that was familiar to her.

Lyanna past the shelf with a number 54 and continue walking down the aisle, passing shelves after shelves. _57….60….67….75….89….94…._

She made a turn when she came upon a shelf with number 97 and headed down the row to stand in front of a particular orb; cold and dark like she had seen the other orbs, as if all the warmth and light had gone out from them.

Yet she knew this orb belonged to her.

She knew it in her heart and so Lyanna did not hesitate when she reached out to touch it. Her fingers barely grazed the smooth surface of the orb when it suddenly vanished, replaced by a face; a skinned face of _stranger._

Lyanna choked back a startled scream, stumbling back and staring at the face of a man with a lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

Then, the lights around the vast room had gone bright. Lyanna looked up and discovered that the face in front of her wasn't the only one she could see. Her eyes grew wide with horror as she looked around the room, now bright with candles that lined the walls.

The shelves were gone and what Lyanna could see now were large marble pillars with hundreds upon hundreds of skinned faces of the dead hanging upon them.

"Who are you?" A voice said from behind her.

Lyanna whirled around, her heart on her throat and saw a man with longish red hair on one side and white on the other.

The man tilted his head to the side, staring down at her.

She stood there frozen, wondering who the person was, and if he could actually see her there.

Her thoughts must be plain on her face as Lyanna watched when a ghost of a smile slowly formed on the man's lips.

"A man can see, lovely girl…" the unknown man said with an accent.

Lyanna was shocked, "Do you really? Can you really see me?"

The man's smile widened.

"Yes, stranger. A man can see…the winged wolf and found himself curious."

She opened her mouth to say more, however, before she could even utter another word, the vision began to change.

Lyanna tried to stop it, but it was of no use.

"The man will search for the girl." She heard the man promised, his voice was already fading and the only thing she could see was his jade-green eyes.

"Valar Dohaeris, dark heart."

Once more, she was elsewhere.

This time, she was standing in front of a black storage space of sorts, built beneath - what Lyanna supposed - was black stairs leading up to nowhere, where the stairs abruptly ended at the thirteenth steps.

Looking around, she noticed that the storage place before her was the only thing Lyanna could see in the gathering darkness.

A storage space big enough to fit a child her age.

Lyanna sensed that there was nothing good inside it, only unpleasant things, things that were terrible and darker that needed to be contain.

Still, she also sensed a kind of pulsing power through the door, a door where she could finally see a symbol carved on the black stone.

There at the center, she scrutinized the vertical line within a circle and enclosed by a triangle.

It glowed an eerie blue and throbbed with power.

Coldness crept up her legs and Lyanna glanced down and noticed the tendril of icy mist and frost beneath the crack of the doorway and on the black marbled floor.

She frowned.

However, as Lyanna turned to look up and back towards the symbol in the door, she found herself in a different place once more and surrounded by hundreds of corpses with glowing blue eyes.

Lyanna woke up with a gasp at once, her heart drumming wildly against her chest, and sweat dotting her brows. She wiped the perspiration off from her forehead, breathing hard.

She briefly noted that her bed covers had fallen to the floor and she could now feel the icy, coldness creeping up her legs.

Lyanna pulled it back to her and covered herself.

There was prickling feeling at the back of her neck.

It felt like she was being watched.

She followed where the sensation came from and saw the cause.

There, at the window sill, a raven was perched and was looking at her, cocking its head in curiosity, but Lyanna could sense its wariness too.

It stared at her for a moment, its beady eyes intent upon her face. When it had taken one good look at her, it finally spread its wings and took flight.

She watched as its black wings blend into the night.

And if Lyanna had cared to look in the looking glass then, she would have seen how her eyes had glowed green.

Green as emeralds.

* * *

Lyanna had thought it unwise to begin her training with swords this early as she wanted to make her father firmly believed that she had given up on trying to learn it. It was for this reason Lyanna spent her time with Old Nan for the first two weeks, trying to finish her embroidery while she listened to the old woman.

"Now you know," Old Nan said after she was done telling Lyanna the tale of the woods witch weaver, of how a wood witch had weaved a wonderful tapestry that even the King had come to gaze upon it and had brought it to court for everyone to see.

The woods witch had been invited and there she had made a friend from a highborn lady who helped her around the court. Through the genteel lady's help, the people began to accept the woods witch and her magic to weave such beautiful moving tapestries, of which she gifted to the Lords and Ladies of the realm.

Everything was good and well.

Until the day someone burn one of her creation.

The King's favored tapestry.

A name was whispered and soon enough the weaver's friend was blamed for the crime. As they say, the lady had been jealous of the weaver and had burned the tapestry out of spite for her.

The lady, in turn, denied the claims and cried when the King sent her forth to be locked in the tower and await for his judgment.

Not even a forth night, news reached the King of how the lady had leapt off of her tower and died.

However, for the woodwitch weaver, she knew for the lie it was, she knew that someone had pushed her friend to her death. Though she did not know who had done so.

But the weaver partly blamed herself for it, for her friend's death, as she had been the one who burned the tapestry. Only the weaver had not expected for someone to present a convincing lie and blamed her friend.

"Yes," Lyanna responded, mulling over the tale Old Nan had told her, of how the womanly arts could be of use with dealing people at court, if her father planned to send her to King's Landing one day.

"Good," Old Nan said, "Forging alliance is as important as a Knight arming himself with shield, armor and sword to protect himself, his kin, or the people he swore to protect. Even the common courtesies in addressing lords and ladies, bowing and the like, these are basic, yet vital things in building connections, allowing as many people into your confidence, and in turn, earning their trust. You must learn these things, m'lady, as a simple slight can be misconstrued for something insidious. It can fuel hostility, foster paranoia, and even start a war if you don't choose your words carefully or act accordingly. But the most important lesson that you must understand is that not all wars are won through armies and bloodshed, but it can be won through diplomacy and peace treaties, through letters and envoys to deliver messages for want of negotiations, and even marriage arrangement has its uses too."

Once the woman had explained all of these to her, Old Nan then reminded her.

"But Lady Lyanna…you mustn't always be gentle when face with an adversary. You must learn when it is the right time to fight too. For you are of winter, and when the time comes, when you are face with difficult decisions, you must embrace the ice in your heart and show your enemies the iron underneath."

"Yes, Old Nan." Lyanna told her and vowed to herself that she would use everything she learned to protect her family and the people she cared about.

.

"On the morrow, I will teach you sewing and stitching." The woman informed her the following week. "These are things that you may need more in the future. And once you have mastered it, you may even use these skills in sewing injuries. When done precisely - and of course, gently - the results will be to everyone's satisfaction that you may not even leave scars behind."

At the mention of a scar, Lyanna absentmindedly reached out to her forehead. In there, she felt a slight tingle on her left temple and frowned.

"Though you may have to ask Maester Walys for such lessons." Old Nan's voice broke through Lyanna's reverie. Still frowning, she slowly lowered her hand down from her forehead.

"The Maester has the materials for sewing skin and flesh together." The woman was saying and Lyanna forced herself to listen, ignoring the unexplained tingle in her forehead. "By using catgut to stitch wounds, you may find this knowledge useful in times of war - but let's pray that a war doesn't come to the North soon and hope the peace will remain for many more years to come. Still, one cannot be certain of what the morrow brings…and if war does come, and you plan to join your future husband's war campaigns as I know you will want to m'lady, you may become of use in the healing tents by tending to the wounded. In this, your future husband will have far less to complain about with regards to your presence in his camp."

"I would rather fight in his army than serve in the healing tents." Lyanna muttered to herself, imagining herself cleaning wounds and trying to soothe and assure those who were in so much agony from the injuries they suffered.

"I might be able to stitch wounds, but I don't think I have a talent for words." She stated wryly. "Injured men will suffer my presence if it came to that."

"Then, you must learn, m'lady. You will be surprise how using the right words can help the injured heal quickly, lift their spirits swiftly, and mayhap boost the army's morale. Words of comfort, assurances, or empathy, and even using tales and songs, can be as powerful as any healing salves and remedy potions - if not better. To empathize with the frightened, the weak and the injured can be as good as praying to the Old Gods to give them strength and courage to win the war, and hope for their return and swift recovery for those who are injured."

.

"Beyond the wall, the wildlings must put value in their clothes - of this I am certain. Clothes that are in complete disrepair can mean life or death in such a cold place beyond the wall. Hours exposed to the bitter cold can mean a frostbite, losing your limbs, hands and fingers for something as foolish as torn furs. Wildlings will have to constantly repair their clothes if they have the materials for such a task to keep themselves alive…" Old Nan paused to regard her solemnly the next day. "It is a cruel life out there, m'lady, this is what I believe. A life beyond the wall is a life bereft of any kind of luxury that the people may find in this side of the wall. We must consider ourselves fortunate to have been born south of the Wall, Lady Lyanna."

Lyanna had to agree. She couldn't imagine what must be like living beyond the wall, where every day was a struggle, every day was a short less of life, and every day the fear would only grow and could be felt more oft than the gnawing hunger.

Old Nan had told her about the Others and the thing that walked in the night. Lyanna couldn't imagine living a life being hunted, though she knew she had lived like that once, of being hunted and living in the wilderness. As to how it was even possible, Lyanna simply blamed it on her queer mind, mayhap fancying herself the Last Hero from the story Old Nan liked to tell her about.

She recalled that in the story the Last Hero had gone in search for the Children of the Forest and their magic, in the hope that they would help end the Long Night. In her mind, she knew they were two companions that came with her. They had been there from the beginning 'till the very end. Two of the Last Hero's most loyal friends who came to help him search for magical objects…

 _There was a red sword too. I'm sure of it. Lightbringer. The sword had to be taken out from beneath the icy water where I nearly drowned…_

When she realized that her mind had wondered off again, Lyanna shook her head and scolded herself.

"We must learn not take everything for granted, Lady Lyanna." Old Nan was saying to her, gazing at her with a somber expression. "For one day, there are many things that we stand to lose. We must appreciate what we have now or we will come to regret not having them at all."

Thereafter, Lyanna didn't take everything for granted and made it her goal to learn anything she could from every person in Winterfell.

* * *

That night, she dreamed of weirdwood tree with one red eye, it's pale branches reaching out to her as if trying to speak. It was followed by a vision of slithering vipers and a flower basking under the heat of the morning sun. Then, she dreamed of a lioness with a spiked crown bathed in a green glow and sitting on a barbed throne, slick with blood. And somewhere at sea, she saw a creature with many arms drowning ships.

But it changed, and Lyanna dreamed of a woman in black armor, dark hair streaming behind her while she stared at battered shield in her hand. It was painted with a wierwood tree with a smiling red face. The paint was so thin and must have been painted in a hurry. Lyanna could still see the form of a black winged creature behind the tree, and the field divided bendwise of silver and gold beneath.

Thereafter, Lyanna watched as the woman threw the shield away from the tower, where it landed somewhere amongst the trees below, with leaves as crimson as blood.

Lyanna could not understand the reason why the woman had done it.

Suddenly, she heard the woman cursed out loud. The female warrior was looking down, as if she had seen someone.

When Lyanna followed her gaze, she saw two figures looking upwards towards the woman and standing beneath the canopy of the trees. One was wearing all black armor while the other was wearing all white. A perfect contrast to their manes of silver-white and midnight black hair. Like day and night, they were.

The woman whirled around to face her and Lyanna found herself staring at a face covered in mud.

A face that she knew too well... or she thought.

It was her own face she could see beneath the mud. Lyanna presumed the other had done so to conceal her identity completely.

Lyanna was stunned. She stood there unmoving even as the other woman donned her helm and tucked her braid at the back before bolting down the stairs of the tower. Her hasty vanishing act set out a cloud of bats flying into the darkening sky, where Lyanna could see the moon rising while the last rays of the sun painted the heavens in the kaleidoscope of red and lilac hues, between darkness and light, locking the land in twilight for a breath-taking moment.

A flutter of snow-white and black cloaks were the last things Lyanna saw below when the two men hurried to intercept the other her they had seen standing up from the scorched and broken tower.

And as swiftly as the wind, Lyanna's vision changed. Soon enough she was standing in front of the black door with the symbol at the center.

Lyanna stared at the door.

What awaited her on the other side Lyanna could only wonder. She could feel coldness trickling from the crack beneath the doorway.

Only then did she hear the faint whispers coming from the other side of it.

Curious, Lyanna reached out towards the doorknob. Her skin met metal so cold that it felt like she had been burned, but the pain was gone in an instant.

The ice had numbed it and Lyanna watched as it crawled up her hand and towards her wrist, turning her hand as white as a corpse.

She stared at her hand in complete detachment as if the hand didn't belong to her at all. Like it was a dead thing to her.

Slowly, Lyanna turned the doorknob and found it locked. She twisted it towards the other side but the door didn't open still.

Lyanna stood there quite lost.

In that moment, she heard the flutter of wings from behind her.

She glanced around and saw a black raven.

A raven with three eyes.

It was perched on an bronze knocker of another door, a bone-white door with a smiling face, but crying crimson blood.

The three-eyed-raven flapped its wings, looking at her with those three beady eyes.

"Strange child!" it cawed at her, "Strange! Strange! Strange!"

Absently, Lyanna removed her hand from the doorknob and turned fully to face the bird.

"Strange child!" the bird called out, "Here! Here!"

Lyanna observed it flapping its dark wing, flying and pecking at the bronze knocker.

"Here! Here!"

She began to walk towards the other door, realizing what the raven wanted for her to do. Lyanna reached out towards the bronze knocker.

No sooner than she touched the cool metal that she heard the voice coming from the weirdwood face in front of her.

"At last, we can speak."

Startled, she nearly let go of the bronze ring but the rasping voice said, "Do not be afraid, child. I will do you no harm."

"What are you?" Lyanna asked, peering at the face in the door and watched as it eyes swiveled to look at her, still weeping crimson sap.

"I am a greenseer, same as you…" the face said in a raspy voice, "I am here to guide you, to make you understand…and to help you fly. Do you not want to fly far, little wolf?"

 _I do…I wanted to fly in the skies. But how can a wolf fly if it doesn't have any wings?_

Abruptly, the door in front of her opened before she could ask anything more.

"Come and enter through the door. We have little time left. I fear that the passage I have created to you is still a fragile thing, it seemed. You are much harder to reach, child."

Lyanna stepped through the door and what greeted her inside made her want to turn around and escape, but found the door gone. She glanced back at the old man trapped in a tree. The weirdwood had grown past him. One red eye peering at her through his long white hair. He resembled more of a skeleton than a living man.

"Strange child." The man croaked to her, barely above a whisper as if he hadn't talked in ages. "I think it's about time I introduce myself to you, Lyanna Stark, or whomever you may be behind that face you wear…"

 _Whomever I may be behind my -?_ _What did he mean by that?_ She thought, confused.

"My name is the three-eyed-raven." The old man croaked.

"Why have you invited me here?" She asked in a low voice, stepping forward and briefly scanning the rest of the place. She soon discovered that she was somewhere deep beneath the earth, some kind of cave where roots of various sizes grew and protruded from the ground to ceiling, and amongst them, Lyanna also saw bone-white skeletons scattered around the ground, bones of humans, other creatures, and even from giants and other elder races.

They were all there.

Lyanna was standing on a pile of all things dead and broken. And as she raised her right foot, she soon realized that she had been stepping over a crushed skull of what she presumed was a baby.

She stared at it before stepping back, her face had gone pale as fallen snow.

"Because it is time that I must show you the things I see…the things I saw…"

Her attention went back to the three-eyed-raven, as he had introduced himself to her.

"The visions of the morrow." The old man said, "Visions that I knew for a certainty. Visions that I saw clearly when you were but four moons at the most in your mother's womb… I had been certain then… but it all began to change..."

She frowned when she detected the hint of fear and uncertainty in the man's voice.

"My eyes began to fail me as you grew. It was only when you were born that I lost the sight completely. Only then did I know what fear was, that even I cannot draw comfort from the darkness that had cloaked me since far as I can remember…"

Lyanna felt his fear too keenly like it was her own when he told her this.

"I had a thousand eyes and one, but now I have only one. The path I see leads only to you and no more…You have blinded me, strange child. And yet.. I do not begrudge you…for I have little strength left in me and it seemed that it is time for me to past on the knowledge. I must guide you, for your path may be far more treacherous than the one I saw…"

 _What did you see? What visions have you seen of my future?_ She wanted to ask, but she dared not voice them out loud.

There was fear inside her too, of simply knowing the truth. Apart of her didn't want to know what the man had seen.

"I have sent you those visions when I could not talk to you...You may have manage to relived one of the visions in your dreams as you had been in that different life, if you recall..."

Lyanna's brows knitted, trying to remember what dream the man was implying, and drew in a complete blank, except for a piece of song and the glimmer of silver hair.

"-or not..." the three-eyed-raven sighed when Lyanna did not answer. "I sent those visions for you, to warn you and for you to change your path this time...I knew you were not the same babe who have been the reason to have cause so much death and destruction."

Lyanna's mind reeled when she heard this.

 _Me? Have I really cause so much death and destruction? But…but -_ _**No**_ … _I couldn't have._

 _ **Not yet. Not yet…**_

Her eyes narrowed.

Why should Lyanna believe him?

She shouldn't be trusting the man so easily, most certainly about the things that hadn't even happen yet.

And the man might be her true enemy for all she knew.

"You will soon find out that I spoke true, strange child." The three-eyed-raven said to her. He must have heard her thoughts and this only made Lyanna warier of him.

The tree seemed to sigh, along with the man. Both sounded exasperated at her apparent mistrust.

"Your path is uncertain still. But you must learn. You must learn _everything_...to prepare you for what is to come. Now, it is time that I show you what you must know. I have stored these visions in the very roots of the tree that held me, for you to view them, for you to understand, and mayhap someday become of use to you."

Then, the vision changed and Lyanna found herself someplace else.

The blast of frigid wind whirled around her, whipping her dark hair about in complete disarray. Lyanna scanned her new surroundings and only saw white, grey, and complete desolation.

All ice around her, even the sea was frozen.

"Where am I?" she asked sharply, angrily, as the vision blurred once more, changing.

"Where have you taken me?!" She demanded next.

There was no answer.

When she turned again, Lyanna froze up as she saw something in the far shores.

In the same instance, she heard the voice answering through the howling winds of winter.

"You are… _elsewhere_ …"

 **CRRAAACCCCKKKK-CRRRAACCCKKKK**

The ice beneath her heaved. It began to splinter, causing Lyanna to lose her balance as the cracks spread across the entire frozen sea where she could see ships entombed in the sheets of ice.

Not a moment too soon, there was another **CRRRRAAACCCKKK-** ing noise which generated across the white wasteland, reverberating and sounding like a growling monstrous beast.

 **CRRAAACCCCKKKK-CRRRAACCCKKKK**

Water came surging out from the cracks, rushing back to reclaim the broken sea.

Lyanna jumped cautiously from one bobbing broken sheets of ice to another, spreading her arms to balance herself, afraid of tipping off as the bergy bits drifted apart.

Something glinted in the distance and when Lyanna narrowed her eyes in that direction, she caught a glimpse of a figure garbed in a reflective armor.

It was a man standing amidst the army of corpses and huge beasts that looked to be some giants.

When she looked closely, the figure didn't appear to be human. He was too unearthly and beautiful to be called human. With his hair and skin as white as the moon and blue eyes glowing like a pair of blue captured stars.

And lying atop his head was a crown of ice.

The figure raised its arms and Lyanna cursed as the water surged, and what remained of the ice shattered around her.

 **CRRAAAAAAACCCCKKKKK!**

The ice splintered completely, setting the ships free, where it then began to float on the water on their own, leading them near where the Kingly figure stood along with his waiting army.

Lyanna nearly slipped but then she flattened herself on the sheet of ice she was perched on and looked towards the drifting ships.

Warily, she watched as the figure in armor carefully led the army of the dead into the freed ships. Ice giants, and so many of the dead, were crawling up to board the deck like ants from her vantage point.

At the sight of them, Lyanna's insides turned to ice. She grew fearful at the thought of what this army of the dead could do – of what it would mean for the living.

When the ships began to move in the water, Lyanna tried to see if she could move closer.

And as she wished for it to happen, she suddenly appeared with a **CRACK!** close to the ship where she could see the figure wearing the unusual armor standing at the prow of the ship, his eyes were bright and he had a small sad smile forming in his lips.

Lyanna stared, scrutinizing the armor that seemed to blend in well with the environment like a glamor.

As if sensing her wide-eyed stare, the figure slowly directed its attention to her and Lyanna met its glowing blue eyes.

The King stared at her. Straight at her.

And she could sense the dark and terrible power he held in those gaze.

There was an entire galaxy of stars in those eyes, but a yawning void there as well.

A void that was calling out to her, where she felt an answering echo at the back of her mind.

When like was calling to like.

Ice calling to ice.

And when the King beckoned for her, Lyanna felt the strong pull. The ebony black door in her mind began to rattle uncontrollably.

 _No!_ Lyanna thought in sheer, blind panic, trembling and taking a step back when she saw the King strode towards her. His mouth moving, speaking – in a cold, brittle language that would have sounded the gnashing of ice to anyone, but Lyanna understood him well enough.

She understood and what she heard…what she heard…

Lyanna would soon rather forget it than accept it.

 _NO!_

Without warning, there was a mighty roar of a monstrous beast somewhere above her.

 **RRAAAAAAWWWWRRRRR!**

Startled, she looked up just in time to see a dragon descending from the skies. It's wings shimmering like opaque white crystals and showering a fine dust of snowflakes on her, with those massive wings beating against the wind. So huge it was that it could have dwarfed two dragons.

Its scales glimmered in the low light, appearing pale blue as frost, and its eyes – its eyes were the same ones that she had seen from the King. It had a breath so cold that it had cause a blizzard almost at once.

As Lyanna vanished from sight after she had willed it, she watched as the King rode the Ice Dragon and saw him lead its army to fetch the rest of his thralls from the place Beyond-the-Wall. Then, his host sailed out to Westeros.

Meanwhile, on the other part of the world, Lyanna saw an armada of ships where she could see a woman with silver-gold hair streaming behind her as she stood at the prow of the ship, with black sails blowing against the wind and bearing the sigil of a three-headed dragon.

Somewhere above them, Lyanna could see three dragons soaring, roaring in the skies and breathing fire.

There was going to be a war.

.

When she returned to the place with the three-eyed-raven, Lyanna had nothing to say.

She was shocked speechless.

What she had seen so far…

Lyanna could not understand a whit of it.

"Those were visions of a different morrow, yet somehow the Night's King was able to see you." The three-eyed-raven spoke in curiosity, and also suspiciously "What did the creature say to you, strange child? To have made you so frighten?"

Lyanna was brought back to the present at the man's question. Upon recalling what the King had said to her, a shiver went straight up her spine. She didn't know whether she should admit the truth or not. After a careful deliberation, Lyanna decided to contend with speaking the half the truth of it.

"He said…" she began hesitantly, her gut twisting.

 _ **I've been waiting for you…**_

"He said that he's been waiting…" Lyanna's voice came out strangled.

"Waiting for what, strange child?" was the old man's next question.

 _For me…_

 **I've been waiting for you…** _**my Queen…**_

 _His Queen._

"The chance to destroy all the living." She lied instead, getting sick at the implication of what the title meant. "That's all…the Ice Dragon arrived before he could speak more of…of his plans."

The greenseer must have guess correctly that she wasn't entirely telling the truth. If his lone, red eye narrowing at her through his long white hair was anything to go by.

"It seemed that I can't bring you here to where I dwell." Bryden Rivers rasped out, eyeing her carefully. "But be that as it may, you are more powerful than I first presume… You do not need the roots of this tree to anchor you or use them to see far and wide to wherever you may wish."

Lyanna barely heard him as her mind went back to the things she had seen in those visions.

 _There are dragons... They are not dead._ Lyanna thought, excitement filling her at the chance of flying on top of one. But as soon as she imagined it, her excitement vanished when she remembered the King and his army and his beautiful Ice Dragon.

 _There is going to be a war..._

"However, there are still certain places that you mustn't go…places that are not meant for people like you and I, places such as Asshai, and for you…"

Lyanna looked up then and forced herself not to flinch when she realized that she was under the scrutiny of the three-eyed-raven.

"- for you… everything Beyond-the-Wall. You mustn't see beyond these places, Lyanna Stark…or you will be lost…"

The old man warned her and she didn't need to understand what the three-eyed raven meant about 'lost'.

She had no plans of seeing the King again. Of that, she was certain.

Though she hadn't heard about this place called Asshai and wondered where it was.

"Will I remember the things that I have seen?" She asked him after a moment. "Will I remember them when I wake?"

"I think not, child. But you will… someday until that black door is open."

At the mentioned of the black door, Lyanna was suddenly there.

It looked the same, standing there beneath the flight of stairs with the symbol glowing pale blue as frost, like the color of the Winter Rose.

"All you have seen. All the things you discovered from your green dreams, will go to that door." The voice echoed through the darkness around her, slowly fading.

"It will remain locked in there until you find the key. This is what I strongly believe...But this will be the end of your wanderings for today. You will know more of the things that you need to learn the next time we meet, dark one…"

* * *

 **Æ**

 _With red tears running down a face so fair,_

 _And blue flowers woven in her hair,_

 _She climbed up the highest tower._

 _Bathed by the moon in the twilight hour,_

 _There she flew away in her eagle wings,_

 _And spelled the deaths of dragons and Kings._

 _Oh, Jenny, Jenny._

 _My poor, lovely Jenny._

 _She called for her Prince whose breath had been stolen._

 _She howled and cried when her red star had fallen._

 _So she flew towards the sun, way up and higher._

 _She soared so high 'til her wings caught fire._

 _Then, she broke and fell to her tragic end._

 _To death and ice and the doom of men._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Anyway, some of the scenes and quotes above are taken from the scene when Harry was in the forbidden forest and was about to face Voldemort. It was the scene when he opened the snitch and saw the resurrection stone inside. The other scene was of Harry meeting Dumbledore at the Kingscross station when he thought he died and saw Voldemort's horcrux. While the other scenes were of Lyanna lying on the bed of blood in the Tower of Joy where Ned found her.

 **EXPLANATIONS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

1. **The Ghost of High Heart/Woods witch - the one who prophesied the 'Prince that was Promised' (the friend of Jenny of Oldstone)  
**

That was Prince Rhaegar Targaryen talking to the Ghost of High Heart (who I suspected visited Summerhall when Prince Rhaegar was there to compose songs and ask her for prophecies.)

2\. **The Lothston Shield** (a black bat on a field divided bendwise, silver and gold.)

The Lothston were the previous Lords of Harrenhall, but their House had become extinct like many other families who held the cursed place.

In the vision: The shield that Lyanna Stark was holding while on that tower was the Lothston shield.

This shield was mentioned when Jaimie Lannister discovered it lying in an abandoned armory in Harrenhall (in the first book ASoS), whom recalled the tales of Lady Danelle Lothston (Mad Danelle) who was well-known for wearing 'a black armor that fitted her like an iron glove' who had set out to war with her red hair streaming behind her. Mad Danelle was also infamous for dabbling on the dark arts, and in the tales, sending out her bats to fetch children.

At King's Landing, Jamie Lannister then gave the shield to Brienne of Tarth, who described it as a heavy oaken shield and was good for protection. From there, Brienne carried it with her in her quest to search for Sansa Stark, and then had the shield repainted while in Maiden's Pool. (in the book A Feast for Crows)

The Theory: This was the same shield that the Knight of the Laughing Tree had used. The shield with silver and gold bended field with a winged bat. It was described as chipped and battered when Jamie saw it, who had even gone on to a lengthy inner monologue about using it and would mean that he would be 'no one'.

 _"He found an old shield in the armory, battered and splintered, the chipped paint still showing most of the great black bat of House Lothston upon a field of silver and gold. The Lothstons held Harrenhal before the Whents and had been a powerful family in their day, but they had died out ages ago, so no one was likely to object to him bearing their arms. He would be no one's cousin, no one's enemy, no one's sworn sword . . . in sum, no one."_

Good enough to serve to disguise himself. As it would have serve anyone who wanted to conceal their identity, like perhaps the Knight of the Laughing Tree.

3\. **Jenny's Song**

Another fan theory that 'Jenny's song' may have been composed by Prince Rhaegar Targaryen himself and might contain bits and pieces of the prophecy of the promise prince, including a fair maiden 'with flowers in her hair.'

That bit of song above is something that I made up, which I combined based from Ser Barristan Selmy's description of the music that Rhaegar produced. Ser Barristan mentioned that the song that Rhaegar sing was more about 'himself and the people he love'. The old Knight mentioned of 'tears', 'twilight' and the 'death of kings'.

4\. **The Night's King and his Ice Dragon (S07 GOT Poster** **''The End Begins'') - Daenery's Vision in the House of the Undying of a '** ** _A corpse standing at the prow of a ship with bright eyes and smiling sadly.'_**

Did you see the poster of the Night's King and his Ice Dragon?

Yeah, the Others has an Ice Dragon.

Where might he found it? Maybe he got it from the Cannibal Bay, where it was _said 'that ships enter Cannibal Bay only to find themselves trapped forever as the sea freezes behind them. Legend also claims some of the thousand ships entombed there are inhabited by the descendants of the original crews, who survive by feasting on the flesh of the newly trapped sailors."_

 _However, based from_ Maester Margate. He suggested that the tales of Cannibal Bay may be explained as distorted reports of ice dragon activity

5\. **The Black Door (is similar to Daenery's Red Door from her childhood home in the Free City of Braavos)**

The symbol that Lyanna saw in the black door is the Deathly Hallows. In case you missed it. But compared to Dany's red door where she had always considered as home, Lyanna's black door (the cupboard beneath the flight of stairs where the Dudley's made Harry stay most of his childhood life) only contained some unpleasant things of being oppressed. That is where the cold and Lyanna's (Harry's) darkness gathers. It is still locked and can only be open once Lyanna finds the key.

Do you know what the key is? I think I've given the clue here.

6\. **The Three-Eyed-Raven**

He keeps calling Lyanna **'Strange Child'.** It's because he had seen her future, a certain future where it resulted to Robert's Rebellion. A vision of the future he had seen while Lyanna was still around 4 months old in her mother's womb. However, it began to change when Lyanna began to grow. The three-eyed-raven can no longer see Lyanna's future and others. To him, Lyanna became a **Stranger** , and he is uncertain if the child is the same one he had seen cause so much Death and Destruction. (This was the point where Harry was reincarnated, when his soul took root on the fetus). The three-eyed-raven tried to contact her, by sending her some visions before, but it is hard for him, until finally he was able to create a passageway to visit her dreams.

The three-eyed-raven is wary of Lyanna. It's for this reason he's sending her those visions to help her choose the right path. But those visions are siphoned to the black door and Lyanna could not remember them. But she will remember them once it opens and I've already hinted what lies behind that door.

That's where the darkness gathers.

.

I've placed a lot of things in this chapter that hid a deeper meaning, if you read the theories of ASoIaF, then you will know where to look.


	4. The Wars to Come

**"I wish you good fortune in the wars to come." – Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning (GoT S06E03, "Oathbreaker.")**

 **"I wish you good fortune in the wars to come." - Mance Rayder (GoT S05E01, "The Wars to Come.")**  
 **.**  
 **"I don't believe in saviors. I believe men of talent have a part to play in the war to come." – Varys the Spider (GoT S05E01, "The Wars to Come.")**

 **"I wish you good fortune in the wars to come, your grace** **..." - Jon Snow (GoT S07E05)  
**

* * *

Lyanna rose from the hot spring, naked as her name day. The hot steam whirled around her as she waded through the water. She could feel the mud on her feet, squeezing out between her toes while she reached the shallower part of the hot spring. Gathering her dark brown hair, she began wringing the water out from it.

She watched her own reflection on the water while she hummed to herself, a song she recalled hearing from the new washerwoman who came from Bear Island.

 **_Six maids in a pool_ **

**_They're of noble blood_ **

**_One Fool, but great, on the shore_ **

**_He'd seen that flower full of love_ **

**_"She'll be in my garden" - he'd sworn_ **

**_Her name was Jonquil, pure child_ **

**_Tough father had made a deal:_ **

**_By ugly, full of money lord_ **

**_That beauty will have to be killed, oh_**

Lyanna sang the song, allowing her voice to carry all throughout the Godswood with only the ancient trees as her silent audience.

'Six Maids in the Pool,' the song was called. A song about a hero from the riverlands named Florian, who run away with a lovely maiden named Jonquil. Vaguely, she remembered what the washerwoman had told her more about the song.

 _"It is the song about Florian and his lovely Jonquil, milady."_ The washerwoman had explained to her when Lyanna had asked. The woman's name was Maegery. She had black hair and brown eyes and tall for a woman of four and twenty.

 _"Where did you hear it?"_ Lyanna had asked out of curiosity.

 _"From the riverlands,"_ had been the woman's reply. _"The riverfolks tell a story of how the song was sung by a wandering bard named Thomas the Rhymer during a wedding feast, though many found it curious as there had been no knights yet when the song was first heard in the Age of Heroes... Knights only appeared when the Andals came to Westeros with their iron swords and their Faith of the Seven. Some say the song, 'Six Maids in the Pool,' was not merely a song at all…but **a prophecy**."_

 _"A prophecy?"_ Lyanna hated prophecies. She knew that there was nothing good in easily believing in them. Only mad men believed in such things as prophecies.

Lyanna felt like she should know this first hand.

 _"Aye, most believe the songs made by Thomas the Rhymer are prophecies."_

 _"Truly? Has the prophecies in the songs come to past then?"_

 _"Mayhap it has, it is uncertain yet…but some say that it had…a thousand times before. Do you want me to tell you the tale behind the song, milady?"_

Lyanna had simply nodded her head, more intrigue than anything.

 _"Once there was a knight,"_ Maegery had started with a smile on her lips _, "He was not of noble birth, as the songs would have you believe, but Florian was more than noble…"_

 _"What is he then?"_ Lyanna had inquired, wondering.

 _"The others say he is a God in mortal form, from the Faith of the Seven."_

 _"The Warrior?"_

 _"At first, he is."_

 _"At first?"_

 _"Aye, milady. For he is a God with many faces...He is ever-changing."_

 _"A shape-shifter? Or a strong warg?"_ had been Lyanna's excited question, wanting to know more about this Florian who could possibly do magic.

 _"Mayhap he is both…a strong warg if he is one, might be the strongest warg that ever live, no one can tell, though the others tell the tale that he was the Warrior, then the Father, then the Smith, and at last… the Stranger. He is all of them…and yet none of them, for he is no one…He is the Silent God. A dreamer...Invisible and immortal. He hides his course in reeds, with lies, mummery, and fools' masks…or so as the tale went…"_

 _"But what of the Maiden, Mother and the Crone? Are they one and the same too?"_

Lyanna had glimpsed a mysterious smile forming in Maegery's lips at her question.

 _"When there is a God. There is also a Goddess... Do you believe in a Triple Goddess, milady?"_

 _"I don't know…"_ She had replied, remembering something; a memory involving a hairless white cat with mismatched eyes, which had one green eye on the left and one blue eye on the right. The cat was named **Hecate** and Lyanna recalled listening to a bushy-haired girl explained what breed of cat it was and more of the its name.

* * *

 **Æ**

 **"The cat is a sphynx breed,"** the brown haired girl said, stroking the back of the fur-less cat. **"The cat was called sphynx for it was developed from selective breeding. And no, it is not the same magical beast you have encountered in the maze that gave you those riddles, Harry... The cat's name probably comes from the Goddess Hecate, who is the Goddess of magic, crossroads, ghosts and necromancy. Hecate is also associated with entrance-ways, light, knowledge of herbs and poisonous plants... as well as sorcery. It is most likely Headmistress McGonagall had chosen to name her sphynx cat as Hecate since the Goddess is often depicted as Triple formed, or a Triple Goddess, and like the sphinx, which is the mixture of many. The goddess is also known to be connected to the phases of the moon: the full moon, half moon, and new moon. And she is often seen to be carrying torches, a dagger, a pen or a key... "**

 **"As a triple Hecate, she is the goddess of the moon with three forms: Selene the Moon in heaven, Artemis the Huntress on earth, and Persephone the Destroyer in the underworld. She is similar to the way how the Sphinx is represented as a magical beast with a head of a woman, the body of a lioness, the wings of an eagle, and lastly, the tail of a serpent. If you think on it, it will probably look like the mixture of all the Hogwart's Houses...or if you think more about blood or race, its akin to a muggle Irishwoman marrying a pureblood Spanish man to produce half-blood children…"**

 **"As you well know, sphinx is the famous emblem in Egypt…Although the worship of Hecate comes from Thrace and her most important sanctuary was in Lagina, where the goddess was served by eunuchs. Moreover, Hecate has been associated with other Goddesses as well, such as Isis of Egypt and Inanna of Sumeria, where the name Isis means 'Throne', which is why her headdress is seen as a throne. As the personification of the throne, Isis was an important representation of the pharaoh's power, where the pharaoh was depicted as her child, who sat on the throne she provided. Isis was also worshiped as the ideal mother and wife as well as the patroness of nature and magic.** **Isis is also known as the protector of the dead and goddess of children. Lastly, Isis was instrumental in the resurrection of Osiris, her brother and husband, when he was murdered by Set. Using her magical skills, she restored her husband's body to life after having gathered the body parts that had been strewn about the earth by Set..."**

* * *

" _I was told by someone that there is a Goddess named Hecate,"_ had been Lyanna's reply to Maegery. Her forehead had throbbed for some unfathomable reason after recalling the particular memory.

 _"I have not heard that name my lady. But I do know of a Goddess who bore three aspects, and she is from the Faith of the Seven. The Maiden, the Mother and the Crone. Many believe them to be one and the same."_

 _"Was Jonquil a Maiden in mortal form then?"_

 _"Mayhap she was... In the tale, Florian the Fool, in disguise, came upon Jonquil bathing in the pool…She was a lovely maiden, so fair and pure to look upon that Floran fell in love with her at first sight."_

 _"Did Florian saw her bathing in a river?"_

The washerwoman had burst out laughing at Lyanna's question, and said to her, " _No, she was bathing in the lake. Some say that it was in the Gods Eye across from the Isle of Faces...but mayhap you shall want to hear the song first in its entirety before I tell you the tale…would you like that Lady Lyanna?"_

 _"Of course."_

Six maids in a pool

They're of noble blood

One Fool, but great, on the shore

He'd seen that flower full of love

"She'll be in my garden" - he'd sworn

Her name was Jonquil, pure child

Tough father had made a deal:

By ugly, full of money lord

That beauty will have to be killed, oh

.

Oh oh, glorious Florian-

He was the first who had opened her thighs

Oh oh, glorious Florian,

Run from thousands of lies

To the happiest day of their lives

.

He was a knight of famous name,

The owner of Furious sword

But now he's fool with motley shield

Because of cutting word.

Despite of misery and fate,

Pride's what he feels for real

He'll care about vows he gave

With blade of Valiry steel, oh

.

Oh oh, glorious Florian-

He was the first who had opened her thighs

Oh oh, glorious Florian,

Run from thousands of lies

To the happiest day of their lives...

Oh oh, glorious Florian-

.

He was the first who had stolen her bud,

Kissing her petals &

Whispering swears,

Green grass had colored with blood..

.

Oh oh, glorious Florian-

He was the first who had opened her thighs

Oh oh, glorious Florian,

Run from thousands of lies

To the happiest day of their lives...

Lyanna sang, remembering the tale behind the song. In the story Jonquil was betrothed to marry a rich lord, but before Jonquil could marry the man, she was abducted by two knights under the orders of the Crown Prince. Jonquil had to cut her hair short and dyed her hair blonde - the color of honey - and then made it look like she had been killed. In their journey to have Jonquil marry the prince, Florian came upon Jonquil bathing in the lake, who was then half in love with the lovely maiden.

However, Florian's vows compelled him to follow through with the plan that the Prince had set, albeit it didn't stop Jonquil from starting an intense and secret love affair with Florian on their way to Gulltown, where the Prince was said to be waiting.

In the end, however, Jonquil never did marry the Prince. Instead she run away with her knight after they were caught in bed together. But Jonquil found out that Florian had lied to her too. She discovered that her white knight was no ordinary knight at all, but he was something more. Florian was a powerful skinchanger, who had hidden motive to see the rightful heir sit the throne. The one who bore the sword. A sword with a great burden to bear.

At first, Lyanna had thought it was a story about the Blackfyre heir. But Maegery had said that it was not, and hinted that it was a story about the descendant of the Warg King who uses direwolves as his thrall.

 _"He is not a Blackfyre, milady, for he doesn't belong to the House Targaryen...but his house is as ancient as yours...He descended from the line of the First Men, the last Warg King himself...a rebel by heart...If he had a House sigil, it would be a black direwolf on a white field..."_

 _"Was Florian a stark then?"_

 _"No...Florian is not a Stark...The man uses too many names and a thousand disguises to be called anyone. Florian is simply no one..."_

As the story went, many thought Jonquil and Florian were dead, but in truth, they were very much alive. The two had joined a mummer's troupe and had continue living a simple life in Dorne, or traveling in the free cities disguise as a merchant and a courtesan, sometimes a fisherman and his daughter, or a maester and a septa, whatever fits the occasion. They hid behind masks as they waited for their children to grow more in to the position of power each day. Until the right time when the two lovers will reveal themselves to the world and end the lies.

Lyanna found the story fascinating and the song passing queer. However, other than the song 'Six Maids in a Pool', Maegery had also taught Lyanna other songs such as, 'The Bear and the Maiden Fair', 'The Dornishman's Wife', 'Two Hearts That Beat as One', 'The Winter Maid', 'Alyssane', 'My Lovely Jenny', 'Autumn of My Day', and so many others.

Lyanna had wrote the songs down on pieces of parchment so that she could memorize them and sing the songs by heart as Maegery had advised her to do.

 _"Remember milady. Some of these songs are thought to be prophecies. You mustn't take them lightly, for it might become of use to you in the future,"_ had been the washerwoman's parting words to her.

Soon after, when Lyanna had went to the well where she usually saw the woman take bucket loads of water, Maegery was nowhere to be seen.

Old Nan had told her that Maegery had left for the Riverlands and left a cryptic message for Lyanna to figure out.

 _"Look to the stars as most Maesters would want to do, Lady Lyanna...for **its only through the stars, you will find the answers to your riddle."**_

The wind blew against Lyanna's flushed face while the blood-red leaves of the weirdwood tree rustled above her. The sound was almost like a whisper when she gave her hair a last squeeze, watching as the droplets of water hit the black pool. It created a ripple effect across the surface.

Afterward, she walked barefooted towards the tree where she had lain her clothes down. She picked them up and slipped them on. Like she had often done before, Lyanna started her morning ride in the wolfswood, albeit she had only began bathing in the hot spring when she ended up dirty and sweaty afterwards.

Lyanna knew that there were a lot of things that she could gain from horseback riding. She had come to realize that such exercise could improve her balance and stability which was something critical that she needed to learn when she would start training sword fighting by herself. This would prevent herself from being overpowered by an adversary in sword fighting as being small of stature and slender could certainly put her at a disadvantage. She also needed to work around this weakness and learn how to immediately transfer weight on her body to keep her center of gravity stable.

During her morning rides, Lyanna had often pushed herself to remain on the saddle even when she changed the speed and maneuvered her horse around any obstacles that could easily unseat her. It was a kind of training to master her core muscles, to stay put in the saddle even throughout the speed with which the outside forces would quickly shift against her. She knew that she could harness these skills more on the ground, where the terrain was more compact and easy to maneuver around. Thus, improving her balance and stability would prevent anyone from taking her unawares and gaining ground on her.

Meanwhile, the muscles that Lyanna had manage to build since she had begun riding had helped too. She remembered how she had ache all over after she had taken to horseback riding, but it was a sweet ache which slowly faded as Lyanna continued with her morning rides. Lyanna had built lean muscles on her thighs and legs through the years, and this was something Lyanna could use when she would begin her informal training at arms. More than that, horseback riding had also helped Lyanna with coordination and flexibility. Two essential things that she would certainly refined on while she would target other weaknesses that she would come across during her exercises or drills.

Eye-hand coordination, rhythm, swift reaction-time and balance made up for coordination, elements that would help Lyanna deliver strikes without hesitation, to attack with speed and accuracy, but with equal amounts of deliberate calculation, whereas better flexibility meant a better range of motion, which in turn would reduce tension on her muscles and lessen the risk of injury if it came to lifting heavy objects - a requirement that she needed to learn when it was time for Lyanna to use a real sword, since holding one was not as easy as her father's household guards made it looked.

Holding a blade would require muscles in the arms and excellent grip to prevent injury on oneself or anyone within the vicinity, such as accidentally throwing the sword after losing its grip, or an uncontrolled follow-through that could result to hacking one's limbs in half. But for Lyanna to practice safely, or without fear of injuring herself, she needed to strengthen her arms as well. Though of course, she would start her training by using a stick or a practice sword. This was what Lyanna had begun planning after she had read the instructional tomes she had snuck out from the Winterfell's library. Some of the books she had read contained sketches of the proper ways to wield weapons, though it was not the same if Lyanna had someone to teach her personally. Yet she had to make do with what she had than made it known to her father what she was doing while she snuck out to the Godswood by herself.

After Lyanna slipped into her clothes, she knelt down in front of the weirdwood tree and touched it's brooding face. Her fingers brushing against the red sap that seeped from its eyes.

It always unnerved Lyanna to see the red sap and couldn't help but feel curious as to the reason why the weirdwood looked like it was crying blood. Lyanna had asked Old Nan once and the woman had simply told her, _"The weirdwood tree shed its bloody tears for it is sad."_

 _"Why is it sad?"_

 _"Because the Old Gods have watched their children kill each other since the Dawn of Days. They watch when one brother is set against the other, when certain sacrifices must be made...and when blood must be shed from those who are marked and chained to the role of a yearly King."_

 _"A yearly King?"_

 _"Aye, a King who is killed when crops do not grow, for to spill their blood upon the earth, the water, the snow, or upon the sands, can promise a bountiful harvest before the coming Winter…"_

 _"But that is terrible thing to do! Are you speaking true, Old Nan?"_

 _"It is_ only _a tale milady, told by those before me…but there is often a grain of truth from the tales I tell you…It is a terrible thing to use blood sacrifices… **and dark** …but **All Kings must die** , milady…and the King's blood will water the crops that needs to be watered, and beneath the earth, there are those who are **always hungry**..."_

 _"Who? Who are hungry?"_

 _"Why the children, milady. The children who is there before us…"_

 _"Do you mean the children of the forest?"_

 _"Hmn...Do you ever wonder why there is war, Lady Lyanna?"_ Old Nan had asked instead of answering her question.

 _"Yes…"_

 _"Because when there is war, there is bloodshed….and when there is blood, there is **Iron**. To most, blood sacrifice is made to ask the Gods for divine protection. It is a ritual offering for those who sleep beneath the earth and water… to pay the **Iron price** , as the Ironborn often said."_

 _"What do you mean by it, Old Nan?"_

 _"War and bloodshed is required to bring in a new world, milady…where a new Queen can undo what has been written…and break the chains to herald for **a new age to come…"**_

Lyanna had shivered when Old Nan had told her the reason.

 ** _"Iron from Ice,_** _is The House Forrester's words…"_ was Old Nan's next cryptic words. _"For Iron comes from Ice…you must remember that, Lady Lyanna, for **Winter is Coming** , and what you are my lady, you are made of Iron... You possess the crown with the iron thorns."_

 _"A crown of iron thorns? But I am no Queen, Old Nan…and I don't have a crown."_

Old Nan had chuckled then, as if she knew a certain secret that Lyanna was not privy to.

 _"Aye, you are no Queen, Lady Lyanna…"_ Old Nan had replied, but her eyes seemed to say, _**"Not yet…"**_

 _"But soon enough, you will come to understand how wars are started…and then you shall see when the **Dragons dance**."_

 ** _"The Dance of Dragons."_** Lyanna had murmured, _"But Brandon said the Dragons are all dead… Most of them perished during the Dance …"_ and then it came to her all of a sudden, _"the Dragon's blood…most of the battle was done above the Gods Eye during the Dance, and in the Riverlands. Blood had run red in the water… The Dance of Dragons was a bloodletting, wasn't it?"_

At her words, Lyanna had recalled how Old Nan had simply cackled like a chicken and begun muttering to herself.

 _"Oh, how the white-haired harpy shall scream when her reign shall end. The Age of Heroes shall come again…"_

Old Nan had left afterward without answering Lyanna's questions. The woman had never told her who the white-haired harpy was and her statement about a second Age of Heroes.

Lyanna bowed her head and payed her respect to the Old Gods. In silence, she prayed and asked for pardon if she might have disturbed the rest of those sleeping around the sacred grove. She knew that her singing was loud enough to wake the dead.

The cold wind blew against her flush face, stirring wisps of her dark brown hair.

 **_SPLASH!_ **

Without thinking, Lyanna instantly seized a stone at the sudden sound coming from behind. She was ready to throw the stone at the intruder, but when Lyanna turned around, she only saw a ripple in the black pool of water where a floating branch from an oak tree had fallen, along with a bunch of acorns.

A curious sight.

She threw the stone aside and went near the water. Lyanna stooped down and pick up an acorn.

 ** _"From these beginnings,"_** Lyanna murmured, gazing at the acorn between her fingers. The words of House Smallwood. Maester Walys had begun teaching her about heraldry and Lyanna had done her best to remember all of them, even small houses such as House Smallwood.

Looking at the acorn reminded Lyanna of the ravens that nested on top of the broken tower. She had gone to the First Keep while she had been looking for a place to train and she had climbed the stairs up to the tower.

She had found it odd when she had seen the ravens that were there. She suspected that the black birds had lived there for years and had grown wild and strange for they had kept screeching for "Corn!", "Barley!" while Lyanna was there. Of times they say something odd like, "Cornwall!" and "Horn!". The birds had also began calling her "Fair!", "Beauty!", or "Snow White!" and sometimes they named her "Gwen", "Beth" or "Jennifer." However, when the black birds began calling her 'Lily', it made Lyanna sad somehow and she had only came by the tower once in a while to bring corns.

She knew that the Maester fed the ravens at the rookery meat but Old Nan told her that the ravens in the broken tower were not ordinary ravens. Old Nan called them crows, a poor distant cousin of the ravens, and who fed on the faces of the dead and most often corns.

After a moment of inspection, Lyanna threw the acorn back into the hot spring and stood up. The ripple in the water showed her own reflection staring back at her, with the image of the weirdwood tree peering over her shoulder, like a giant brooding over the black pool.

Before, Lyanna had been afraid of swimming into the water after Old Nan had told her that there was a dragon sleeping beneath Winterfell.

 _"A dragon that look like a snake which can spout out a river of flame."_ The old woman had informed her.

 _"It is a wyvern, Old Nan?"_ Lyanna has asked. She had read something about them, about different kinds of dragons in a book of monsters. Lyanna knew for a fact that they didn't have that kind of book in the Winterfell's library.

 _"It might be, my lady,"_ had been Old Nan's reply, _"Smoke rises up from below the earth to warm the walls of the castle, heat the hot springs and even your glass garden, Lady Lyanna. Without the dragon's breath, the plants inside the glass garden, and even your Winter Roses might not survive."_

The thought of seeing her Winter roses withering and dying in her hands saddened Lyanna. She had come to love everything about her home, even though she had often felt she didn't belong there. With its eerie silences in the Godswood and its brooding weirdwood tree, Lyanna oft times sat and gazed down at her own reflection in the black pool, watching the ripples she made with her hand while the mist would rise up and dance all around her.

The hot spring had looked so deep and black that it was almost like a mirror. Its water always soothed Lyanna's aching muscles and allow her to relax every time she came home after a ride. Even though she oft times end up having mud caked up to her knees, Lyanna didn't mind at all.

Brandon the Builder was said to have built Winterfell. If he did, he must have thought of everything, even the construction of the glass garden and the building of the castle around the natural hot spring. Sometimes she had thought about swimming further down into the water and see if there was indeed a dragon living in its depths, or an even a Drown God if she was lucky, where she could ask the God to return back her mother.

However, something had stop Lyanna from going below. She had been afraid that she might find something else down there instead. It might be a corpse of someone she knew, or she might find a golden dragon egg that contained a clue.

A half-remembered song came to mind, when she though on it. A song she knew was sung by creatures of the deep.

 _Come seek us where our voices sound,_  
 _We cannot sing above the ground,_  
 _And while you're searching ponder this;_  
 _We've taken what you'll sorely miss,_

 _An hour long you'll have to look,_  
 _And to recover what we took,_  
 _But past an hour, the prospect's black,_  
 _Too late, it's gone, it won't come back._

The song was another riddle that had brought Lyanna another headache, and that very night, she dreamt of fighting against dark creatures with tentacles and saving someone from a trident-wielding mermaids. But instead of a sword as a weapon, Lyanna had used some kind of stick to repel the creatures away from her and the person she had saved.

It was only a dream, but it felt so real to Lyanna, like it had happened before…

* * *

 _ **Cersei: "When will I wed the prince?** _  
_**Maggy: "Never. You will wed the king."**_  
 _**Cersei: "I will be queen, though?"**_  
 _**Maggy: "Aye. Queen you shall be... until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear."**_

 **-A Feast for Crows, Chapter 12, Cersei III.**

* * *

Two moons had passed since she had begun her lesson with Old Nan. By this point, Lyanna had also began observing her brothers while they trained. There was a covered bridge just in front of the yard that connected to the bailey. It was there that Lyanna usually spent her time watching her brothers do their morning drills.

The master-at-arms usually start with a simple-enough stretching exercises. Lyanna took note of those. After allowing her brothers to stretch, Master Cassell would ask both Brandon and Ned to position themselves in their normal fighting stance, wherein the Master-at-Arms always found something wrong with her brother's stances, scolding both her brothers none-too-gently.

And as soon as the Master Cassell was done correcting them, the court yard would fill with the ringing noises of hitting wood against wood as her brothers took turns attacking at each other.

She carefully observed their footwork and how they struck. Both her brothers were quick on their feet, Lyanna had to admit, but sometimes she noted the hesitation there as well by the way they seemed to forgo using a follow-through, or how either of their foot would end up half-lifted off the ground.

More than that, she noticed all at once that her brothers projected their planned of attack so obviously with their body movements.

 **CLACK – CLACK – CLACK**

Brandon was striking wildly, putting more strength in his blows, with his sword striking Ned's shield with a loud **_THUNK!_** that was sure to rattle anyone's teeth. Ned was sure-footed but even he nearly stumbled when Brandon lashed out with his sword.

"Come on, Ned."

Brandon's voice drifted towards her as she saw him shift to the left ever so slightly, and Lyanna knew instantly Brandon was about to attack Ned's right side.

And she was right. Brandon brought his sword out, where Ned barely countered it with his own in time.

 **CLACK!** was the sound as their practice sword clash, with Ned attacking almost at once.

Lyanna watched as Brandon twisted to the side and out of the way as Ned aimed for his shoulder, using his sword to parry Ned's sword away.

"You need to be faster, dear brother." Brandon said while doing that tell-tale roll of his shoulder for a brief moment that Lyanna knew her brother would attack with a lunge and an upward slash.

Not a moment later, Brandon did just that.

Lyanned sighed out loud when she saw this. She wanted to go down there and reprimand him for it, for being so obvious in what he intended to do.

"As you sorely need to keep quiet, Brandon." Ned responded in a soft voice, though Lyanna could still hear him speak from where she stood in the covered bridge. "I think there's no need of talk during training. It will only serve to distract you."

"As it will serve to distract you too, brother of mine."

Lyanna saw the lunged coming before Ned did.

With his right foot skidding on the ground, Brandon lunged forward and swung, bringing his sword down. Ned failed to raise his shield on time and Brandon's sword hit Ned squarely in the right shoulder.

 **THUMP!**

She saw Ned winced in pain, but he was quick to retaliate. Lyanna could clearly read her brother's next move, as clear as day and as easily like she could read his mind.

Inwardly, Lyanna sighed.

There it was, the dipping of Ned's head and twisting of his wrist, with his eyes flashing left, that could only mean that he was about to evade and attack with a down stroke at the same time.

Ned favored this move. Lyanna had oft times seen him do it that she wanted to scold him as well.

 **SMACK! THUCK!**

She watched as her brothers exchange more strikes while raising their shields up. But as she continued to observe both of them, Lyanna was tempted to close her eyes in exasperation.

No, both of her brothers needed a thorough scolding. Their moves were so plain to see that Lyanna feared for her brothers' lives if they got into a fight in the future. These were an unconscious move, yet if not checked or immediately corrected, it could very well mean her brothers deaths if their enemies noticed them.

Ned projected his attack through a simple dip of his head, the twist of his wrist and the bending of his knee, added to that was the constant shifting of his eyes whenever he planned to twist around or evade. Brandon, on the other hand, was not even trying to be subtle. His fighting style was as loud as he loudly boasted the numbers of girls he had kissed.

An adversary with a keen, observant eye would not miss these things, while a smart adversary would certainly keep track on these moves and use them to counteract her brothers' attacks. Her brothers would become too predictable, if that was the case, and this would be their undoing. Brandon and Ned need to learn to focus on their adversary's movements and minimize theirs.

Lyanna knew this. She could almost recall having taught the same thing to people who exaggerate their hand movements despite using non-verbal words to attack. A simple flick and wave would have sufficed but aggressive fighters tend to use the maximum space to draw out more power of their attack, and forget the need for subtlety.

This was what they had reasoned to her, Lyanna dimly recalled, but in theory, drawing power through exaggerated had movements was not possible.

She couldn't understand what those hand movements were used for. However, she knew the lesson learned could be applied similarly to swordfighting, albeit more on close-range combat.

There was tickle at the back of her mind telling Lyanna that she had taught – no, trained and even led a squad of her own. She knew there had been a squad of novices whom she had trained in defense to fight against the dark side. And later on, she had lead battle-hardened men who would not hesitate to use force if necessary and bloodying their hands when it came to that. While somewhere in her obscure memories, Lyanna could almost hear the ghost of a mentor who had always reminded her to keep a _'Constant Vigilance'_ ; a mentor with a swiveling eye that could see the back of his head.

It reminded Lyanna somehow of Bryden Rivers, or as some people called him Bloodraven, whom was said to have ruled the Seven Kingdoms in all but name with his spies and spells, which inspired singers to make a song for him.

 ** _'How many eyes does Bloodraven have?'_** Lyanna thought. ' ** _A thousand eyes, and One.'_**

And the thought of a person having a thousand eyes to watch over the world made Lyanna shiver and wondered if she was being watch herself too. But who would care to keep an eye on a girl like her? Lyanna was no older than eight. _The Northman's daughter_. No one of importance… except perhaps she was more of use to her father by marrying her off to secure allegiance with the other great Houses which she knew Maester Walys had begun planting in her father's head.

She suspected this when the Maester had begun teaching Lyanna about heraldry and the family history of the Baratheon's, the Tully's and the Arryn's. Great Houses which Lyanna knew whose blood could be trace back to the blood of the First Men. Oft times the Maester's insistence that Lyanna learn heraldry reminded Lyanna of the games she had played with her brothers and the other children in Winterfell when her mother had still been alive.

' ** _Come-into-my-castle'_** had been the first game Lyanna learn to play. She had played the game with Ned and the other children, and even with Wylis too in the First Keep. Along with the games of **_Monsters-and-Maidens, Rats and Cats, Hide-the-treasure_** , and **_Lord of the Crossing_**.

 ** _'Come-into-my-castle_** ' was a game designed to teach courtesy and heraldry and learn about the other Houses of the realm. Both the allies and enemies alike. However, that did not stop Lyanna from turning the game into her own, assigning the other children with the duties as the Wardens and Lord Paramounts when they failed to remember the names of the Houses of the realm.

 _"The Warden's duty is to ward off the monsters away from entering our castles."_ She remembered herself explaining to the others when they had asked her about the snow forts that they had built in the First Keep. _"While the Lord Paramounts are there to keep the rest of the Houses from being destroyed by other rival Houses, keeping the peace between the others and arranging marriages that will not lead the rest of the members to their doom. If one house is destroyed, it is only one step closer for our Kingdom's complete annihilation, and for the wards to falter and weaken. And once the wards are down, we can expect for the rats and the monsters to enter our realm soon enough."_

 _"But who are going pretend to be the monsters?"_

 _"My brother will be one of the monsters. His role will be the Hidden One since he is very good at staying silent, hiding and stalking in the shadows. Though Ned will need to wear a mask or a hooded cloak for his disguises to go on with the mummer show."_

 _"And me, milady? What am I to do?"_

 _"Wylis, you will be the Giant. The Watcher who keeps a close eye on those who starts trouble. You will try to thwart Ned's plans in taking the entire Kingdom unawares and keeping him away from me. You will allow no one to enter the castle while under your watch. Like my father always say, 'There must always be a Stark in Winterfell' lest the monsters and grey rats shall come crawling back into our Kingdom."_

 _"Why is it that you have given me the part of the villain, Lyanna?"_ Ned had complained before she could speak to the others.

 _"Because who will ever suspect someone honorable to try and usurp the throne?"_ had been Lyanna's hasty reply, not thinking more on it.

Ned had looked absolutely troubled after hearing her explanation.

 _"I do not want to play the traitor, Lya."_

 _"I know, Ned…Do not be upset. This is only a children's game after all."_

Lyanna remembered how Ned had pursed his lips in his displeasure. Her older brother was ever the Quite wolf, known for his sullen silences and cold rage.

 _"And you, Lady Lyanna?"_ It had been the second son of one of the gardener's who had asked her. _"Are you to be the Maiden or the Monster?"_

 _"Of course, she's going to be the Maiden, stupid!"_ another young boy had burst out, clearly offended in her behalf while the smith's son, Allane, had said. _"If Lady Lyanna is going to be the Maiden then I'll be her Bear."_ He was a boy whose fingers had been smashed after he was accused of being a thief. Some said that he had earned it after stealing a ham and bacon from the kitchens, others say it was a duck or goose in the field, while another said that Allane had stolen a flintlock to start a fire and reforged some broken sword.

Lyanna did not believe any of the whispers. She had told her Lord father as much and her father had pardoned the young boy, albeit it had already been too late as someone had broken Allane's fingers. It had saddened her to see the boy struggling with his new injury. When Lyanna had first visited the forge, Allane had told her how he had wanted to make his own sword and dream of becoming a great knight someday.

 _"Don't worry, my lady."_ Allane had said to her, trying to make light of his injury. _"I can still wield a sword with my left hand and mayhap used the right to take a piss at those who have wronged me."_ that had earned him a smack on the shoulder from Lyanna and Allane had merely laughed at that.

Lyanna had started learning the healing arts since then. She hadn't like the look on Allane's unbending fingers. Old Nan had been right, mayhap learning the healing arts from Maester Walys was a vital thing that she ought to learn as well, where Lyanna could use this knowledge to help others who got injured in the future.

Meanwhile, it had been her older brother Brandon who jested that Allane must have stolen lemons from some lord's garden and it had been a visiting huntsman from House Bolton who had broken Allane's fingers.

Lyanna did not think it funny at all.

 _"How could have Allane stolen lemons when there aren't even lemons in the North?!"_ Lyanna had remembered only feeling angry after hearing her brother joked about it. _"Lemons are only found in Dorne! I hear they grow them somewhere near the Greenblood, or in that place called Lemonwood! Allane couldn't possibly have stolen a lemon this far North!_ "

 _"Mayhap, but that's where you are wrong, dear sister, there are lemons in the North."_ Brandon had said _,_ _"Some rich merchant from Braavos have been trading them in White Harbor as of late. The Manderlys say this lordling owns lemon, lime and blood orange orchards in Dorne, and even in Braavos too. Don't you remember eating the lemon cakes the other day? Father had Old Nan baked them for us. The lemons were bought and sent by the Manderlys... A gift, I hear the person say to father when they delivered them here. Very curious that. Mayhap someone wanted to give you a taste of Dorne, dear sister."_

 _"Or someone wanted to give me a taste of Death,"_ had been Lyanna's sarcastic reply. _"Braavos can't possibly have lemons and blood oranges! I hear that it's difficult to grow some plants and trees there! If it were, then mayhap I could have grown lemons and even perhaps pomegranates this far North too!"_

 _"You can probably grow some in the glass garden alongside your Winter Roses Lyanna. This rich merchant must have done the same while living in Braavos. He must have glass gardens in his own palace at Braavos to cultivate those fruits."_

 _"Then, this rich merchant mustn't be merchant at all, but the Sealord!"_ She had snapped at her brother, still angry at his jest. _"Only the Mighty can have palaces in Braavos! If I'm wrong, I swear I'll start dressing myself in purple, same as those purple sails from the ships that leave the harbor of Braavos! And mayhap I'll even wear a crown of pearls as well to match with my dress!"_

Brandon had simply laughed at her declaration.

 _"That will be the day when hell freeze over to be sure, dear sister!"_ Brandon had said afterward, still laughing _. "For I have never seen you in a dress! Not once! Though I think you are better off wearing a White Septa's robe or the Grey clothes of the Silent Sisters since surely **no one** will want to marry you if you continue to act so wild and willful, Lya."_

Lyanna recalled storming out of the room in her anger then while her brother had simply called out, _"Mayhap the Stranger is waiting for you to grow up and marry you, dear sister! Better him than any stupid lord or Prince in the Seven Kingdoms!"_

She had stopped talking to her brother for three days afterward and spend her time riding in the wolfswood or sulking in the Godswood.

 _"I'll be the Bear who dances for Lady Lyanna as she wishes,"_ those had been Allane's words when they tried to play _Come-into-my-Castle_ with the other children. Lyanna had given the boy a clout in the head for the suggestion.

She had known the song of the **_'Bear and the Maiden Fair'_**. A famous song that came from the riverlands. The song was about a Bear, three boys, a goat and a fair maiden. However, Lyanna was not a maiden with honey in her hair. Nor did Lyanna need to be rescued. No, she was like the warrior Queen Nymeria of the Rhoyne who led ten thousands ships in her wake after fleeing the wrath of the dragonlords.

But the warrior Queen of Dorne was of the South and Lyanna was of the North so it was only reasonable that she ought to play the part of someone from the legends Old Nan had told her about. The Night's King and his Corpse Queen, and recently Snow White, the Huntsman and the Marsh King.

 _"I'm not going be the Maiden to a goat's Bear, but I'm going to be Snow White."_ Lyanna had replied.

 _"Who?"_ Ned had asked.

 _"Snow White. The girl who run away into the woods where the Marsh King abducted her while she was picking flowers near the river?"_

Her brother had looked like he had no idea what Lyanna had been talking about. Obviously Old Nan hadn't told him about the story yet. The old woman had been telling her different tales oft late, mostly about a maiden getting abducted by some secret king or prince.

 _"Did Old Nan ever tell you the story?"_

 _"No. She only told me stories about Knights and other Heroes."_

 _"I see. Well, I'll be Snow White and the three of you will be guarding me in the broken tower. I will watch and wait for the seven who will come to claim the Kingdom."_

 _"That will be seven against three, Lya. That's hardly an even fight."_

 _"But the three will not be an ordinary three, Ned. They will be my Kingsguard. The deadliest knights of the realm."_

 _"Mayhap you ought to call them your Queensguard instead of Kingsguard then, Lya."_

 _"And mayhap I should call them thieves too. Seven against thieves, or robber Knights, if that is what you prefer Ned."_

Ned hadn't like her response.

 _"Why can't I be one of your Kingsguard, Lya?"_ Ned had complained after. _"I want to be one your Kingsguard and be the Sword of the Morning too. I can protect you better than the others. I won't need Allane and Luthor to guard the tower. You only need me."_

Lyanna had found it curious that Ned wanted to become the 'Sword of the Morning'. It was title only reserve for the knights from House Dayne who was chosen to be deem worthy to wield the sword called Dawn.

Nonetheless, it did not stop Ned from dreaming and wanting to become a Dayne of Starfall, even when he was born a Stark of Winterfell...

Or was he truly? Lyanna had briefly wondered if Ned was not in fact her brother and he had been switch at birth by some grumkin, and her real brother was somewhere out there chasing cats and chickens, or joining a group of mummers to start a rebellion.

She thought it really strange and curious indeed in how Ned seemed to be obsess about that certain House even just after her brother had only heard of them from Maester Walys' lessons on heraldry.

True, House Dayne was an ancient House whose blood could be trace back to the line of the First Men. The only family in Dorne to boast an ancestry from the Dawn of Age. However, they were from a minor house and was sworn to House Martell, though it did not stop Ned from wanting to be one of them.

 _"Then, you can pretend to be the Hidden One and the Sword of the Morning at the same time. No one will ever suspect if you play both parts."_ Lyanna had told her brother after briefly contemplating the matter. _  
_

Ned hadn't like his role as a Usurper, albeit he played the part well enough. Lyanna had never seen her brother acting so sullen like that time.

* * *

"Come on, Ned! Stop hesitating and strike me!"

Lyanna straightened up as her attention went back to her brothers on the courtyard. Brandon was boasting again.

"You're slow as turtle, dear brother, though not as shy as our little brother."

Lyanna wanted to roll her eyes at Brandon's words.

What was the use of wanting to become a knight when Lyanna couldn't even go down there on the training yard to join and practice with her brothers? Even more so when she didn't' dare correct her brothers? For certain, her brothers wouldn't take her reprimand very well. She could almost imagine them telling her these things, _'How would you know about swordfighting Lyanna, when you haven't even been taught once?'_ Or her brothers could simply say to her, **_'You know nothing, Lyanna,'_** and that would be far more hurtful than she would care to admit.

Because, truly, there were things that Lyanna knew nothing about, like the riddles her mind seemed to love throwing at her, riddles made up of broken and faded memories that she had difficult time piecing together. Perhaps Lyanna was a **_sphinx, more of the riddle and not the riddler_**. Her mind produced so many riddles that it oft times gave Lyanna a slight itch and an occasionally throbbing headache that started from her right forehead. She could not get rid of the sensation no matter what salve she put. The place in her right forehead was unblemished and smooth. Yet her mind seemed convince that there was an unhealed scar there.

A cursed scar that she wanted to scratch out until it bled.

And felt like **_she had three heads_** weighing heavily upon her shoulder.

 _Three lives_ , she supposed in her mind. Like **_a cat had three lives_**. If she died, then she'll have two lives left, but **_every time_** **_she die and brought back to life_** , **_she would end up_** **_losing a part of herself._** Some parts of her life she would forget and from there she would descend down and down into the earth, with no light to light her way, deep into the crypts, into the darkness where her doom awaited. Where she would finally meet her maker...with the pale blue eyes of Death staring straight at her.

"You need to keep your shield up, my Lord." the voice of Master Cassel brought Lyanna abruptly to the present and she looked down towards the training yard.

It seemed Brandon had bested Ned for the third time that day.

She could see Ned rubbing a hand on his stomach with a slight grimace on his face. His practice sword lying discarded on the ground.

"Alright, Ned?" her other brother, Brandon, asked, looking amused, with his practice sword slung across his right shoulder.

In response, Lyanna saw Ned pursed his lips while he stooped low to pick up his own sword.

Lyanna leaned against the post of the covered bridge and crossed her arms in front of her, watching them with a small smile gracing her lips.

Brandon always loved to picked on Ned when he was defeated, while Ned merely suffered it in silent dignity.

"Did I not tell you that I will win this round, dear brother?" came Brandon's arrogant words, unslinging the flat of his sword from his shoulder and grinning. "You better keep up, Ned, before our Lord father sends me away a moon turns from now. Who are you going to fight with when I leave for Barrowtown? Not Lyanna, that's for certain."

She could hear Brandon's chuckle afterward while Ned simply positioned himself into a fighting stance. Silent as ever.

At her brother's statement, Lyanna's brows knitted. It was true. Ned was a bit slower than Brandon, but after carefully observing them, she noticed that Ned had far better qualities as a fighter than Brandon in all honesty.

Compared to Brandon, Ned had the patience to wait out and gauge his enemy before attacking. Brandon, on the other hand, had neither the patience and he was more apt to end the fight soon with his brash moves and lightning-fast attacks that would easily tire him.

Brandon relied on his brute strength and speed than careful deliberation.

If Ned was given the time to train more and developed his skills, Lyanna was certain that her other brother could outfight and out tire Brandon.

As of now, Ned was still learning, as Lyanna was learning from both her brothers.

"My Lords," Master Cassell interrupted. "Might we begin again?"

Lyanna saw Ned inclined his head mutely, his foot sliding across the ground to widen his stance, while her other brother, Brandon, slinked into position with an air of confidence and a sly smile on his lips.

"Of course," she heard Brandon say, observing how her older brother raised his sword in front of him and tightening his hold on the shield he held on his left arm.

"Ready Ned?" Brandon asked, his dark grey eyes glittering. "Better keep that shield up, brother, or I'll ring that head of yours like a bell."

The master-at-arms looked at Ned then and Lyanna listened to Martyn Cassell give him advise.

"Before you raise your shield up, my Lord, draw strength from both shoulder and arm, tightened your hold on the strap. With your feet braced apart, leaned forward a bit. You must watch where the sword is about to land and only move to ensure that it hits the shield."

"I understand," She heard Ned say whose gaze had not left Brandon, who by this point was waiting impatiently.

"But try not to hide behind your shield too much, Ned," came Brandon's remarked just as Master Cassell said, "You may begin."

At once, her brothers attacked each other. The yard instantly filling with the sounds of wood hitting wood.

 **CLACK – CLACK – CLACK**

She could tell Ned was determined to defeat Brandon this time. His movements were more measured and his eyes were narrowed and watchful. Lyanna smiled as she observed them, at least there was an improvement, albeit her brother still needed to minimize those instinctual habits.

In the end, Lyanna kept her silence and simply watched as her brothers honed their martial ability while she shelved the things she saw in her memory.

Master Cassell was no Knight by any means, but he was good with arms, so Lyanna could not fault him for the lack of knowledge in some areas. It was for this reason that her father was convinced to send her brother Brandon to Barrowtown and complete his training there. Maester Waly's work, to be sure, the man from the Citadel had been whispering in her father's ears as of late, planting some seeds of southron ambition if nothing else.

It was concerning for Lyanna to hear this as it would mean that her father would betrothed her to someone in a few years. Someone of importance. Most likely from one of the Great Houses of which Maester Walys' had begun teaching her about. Either from House Tully or Baratheon, one of which has male heirs already for her to marry.

As she thought more on it carefully, Lyanna could easily guess her Lord father was going to betrothed her to one of the heirs from House Baratheon as the house has strong ties to the Iron throne. Lyanna also heard that Maester Walys had began suggesting that Ned be fostered at the Vale, alongside the Baratheon heir.

If only Lyanna had been born a man and she would have the choice to marry anyone she loves. Lyanna would have even gone with Brandon in the Barrowlands if it had been the case, to train alongside him as a knight.

 **CLACK – CLACK – THUMP!**

"Your aim is still off, Ned." Brandon was saying after raising his shield up when Ned tried for a swift lunge, but Brandon parried Ned's next attack and pressing his own.

Lyanna continued to observe her brothers. Perhaps she would talk to Master Cassell later and mentioned the important things that her brothers needed to learn.

However, Lyanna would have to choose her words carefully as not to offend the Master-at-Arms in how he trained her brothers. She didn't want to suffer training under a teacher who would despise her just because of something she said. Because she might need the master-at-arms to train her with the bow once Lyanna got to broach the subject to her father.


	5. Look to the Stars

"EDDARD! NO! Ned, stop it! Don't kill him! I beg of you! Don't! I love him!"

The voice broke through the mist of uncertain morrows as the three-eyed-raven guided her through them.

"That is not the vision I wanted you to see." The raven perched on Lyanna's shoulder said, swaying with every step that Lyanna took. "It is not the right time for you to see _Him_."

"Who is _he_?"

"Someone you should not meet... Someone who would see the Seven Kingdoms bleed if he gets his hands on you. Here now, look at this vision."

Lyanna paused in her steps to look. The mist cleared around her to show her a vision of her brother gazing into a night fire while across from him she could see a dark-skinned woman chanting in a foreign language.

"That's your brother," the raven said, "and that woman there is named Nettles. Daemon Blackfyre's lover."

"Daemon Targaryen's…." Lyanna began, surprised. "But how is that even possible? I thought she disappeared after the Dance of Dragons?"

"Yes, she escaped from Princess Rhaenys wrath and hid in the Mountains of the Moon with her dragon Sheepstealer."

"But she doesn't look like she had aged since she disappeared."

"Yes, it's through certain sacrifices and the use of fire magic that she is able to hid her true appearance and prolong her life."

"Sacrifices?" Lyannas asked, looking horrified. "Do you mean blood sacrifices?"

"Yes."

"Why is Ned with her then?" She questioned when she finally noticed her brother's trance-like state. Ned looked older though, a man grown of ten-and-eight. Lyanna realized that the vision happened far into the future.

"What is she doing to him?"

"Your brother has been made a pawn in their game. In this vision of the morrow, your brother snuck back to the North through the Mountains of the Moon to call his banners and aid with the rebellion against the Iron Throne, but on your brother's journey, he was intercepted by the Fire witch, Nettles. By letting him gaze into the fire, the witch used the play of light and shadow to alter your brother's memory, a false illusion to make your brother believe that you were taken away by force."

Lyanna fell silent as she watched the vision unfold. She observed how the woman Nettles chanted and danced around the fire. Her voice was like music, flowing fluidly. Meanwhile, in the shadows, she saw other men and women as well, whom she guessed must be members of the Mountain clans.

"Dear child, come now," the raven pecked at Lyanna's ear, reverting her attention to it. "Let us move on into another vision. Here…look at this vision of the others who are a part of the game, of those who knew the secret of the gods."

Lyanna followed where the raven led her. The mist cleared once more and she saw a vision of her brother Ned in a room full of strangers.

Ned had his sword drawn out and he was looking cautiously at the people surrounding him. One was a woman wearing a red robe with a ruby necklace clasped around her neck. Another was a tall, fat man, and very rich - judging from the gemstones rings Lyanna could see in his fat fingers, and to his right stood a Maester in his grey robes, while on the fat man's left side stood another woman with red hair and a golden brooch pinned on her green robe; a brooch of a dragon eating its own tail.

 _She's from House Toland._ Lyanna thought.

"What is going on?" She asked, carefully looking at the strangers.

"You were taken, child…and your brothers were out looking for you." The raven spoke.

 _"You can't escape us Lord Eddard Stark."_ The fat man said, motioning for the three guards in copper armor to circle around the room, blocking the entrance way and the windows. The guards had a dornish cast to them whilst the fat man wore loose clothes of the free cities.

There was another man there too, a man who was short of stature. Lyanna only noticed him when the short man stepped out of the shadows to take a blowpipe from his pockets, and aimed it at her brother's unguarded back. Lyanna wanted to shout a warning to her brother, but the three-eyed-raven stopped her before she could.

"Your brother can not hear you, child." The raven said, "Just let the vision run its course."

And so Lyanna clamped her mouth shut and simply watched.

 _This vision of the future is not real. It has not happened yet_. Lyanna told herself.

"His name is Howland Reed, or one of the names he goes by." The raven on her shoulder said just as Lyanna watched the man shot a poison dart on her brother's neck.

For a moment, Ned's eyes register confusion when his hand reached out to touch the dart embedded on the side of his neck. He turned around to look at the man responsible for the dart, his grey eyes showing shock at the betrayal.

 _"I'm sorry, but this must be done."_ The man named Howland Reed said while her brother Ned began to sway on his feet. _"No one must know what has occurred here. No one must know that your sister still lives."_

 _"Quickly, give him my Serra's hand,"_ the fat one urged hurriedly. _"Give them to him."_

The woman with a ruby on her neck did what she was bidden and took out a pair of severed hands from a chest.

By this time, Ned was already on his knees with a glazed look on his eyes.

"What did they do to him?" Lyanna asked in concern.

"The dart is smeared with some kind of medicinal properties to make your brother hallucinate. You must watch what happens next. The red woman is going to use those hands to cast shadow upon your brother's memory. In the same that Nettles use fire and shadow to cast illusion. To deceive him into believing that you are dying."

 _"Ned, is that you?... Is that really you?... You're not a dream?"_ the woman was saying in voice that was weak, imitating someone sick, while her brother continued to hold unto the severed hands.

 _"No, I'm not a dream. I'm here…right here..."_ Ned replied, looking at something Lyanna could not see.

From the corners of her eyes, she watched the fat man dabbed tears from his face.

"Who is that man?" Lyanna pointed at the fat man with the yellow forked beard.

"His name is Illyrio Mopatis," came the raven's reply. "And that woman with the brooch is named Nymella Toland from Ghost Hill of Dorne, while the red woman is named Melony of Asshai."

"Who are they to me?"

"They are no one you must know," came the raven's cryptic response while Lyanna watched the group continue with the mummer's farce.

 _"I don't want to be brave."_ The red woman whispered.

 _"You are."_

 _"I'm not."_

Lyanna wanted to shout at her brother for believing so easily.

 _"I don't want to die."_

 _"You're not going to die,"_ her brother said, almost in tears.

Lyanna wanted to shake him awake if she could, but she knew she could not reach him.

"If I'm not dead, as they wanted my brother to believe. Where was I then?" She asked after the mummer's farce ended.

She felt helpless when she watched her brother being dragged away after he collapsed. The short man named Howland Reed took the severed hands away from Ned before he knocked him unconscious with another poison dart.

"Where did I go?"

"You went wherever you wanted…with _Him,"_ came the raven's dark answer.

"Him? Who?" she asked, growing frustrated at the raven's cryptic words.

"You know who…No one but him of many faces...He is _Death_."

* * *

 **Jenny of Oldstones**

 **_"High in the halls of the kings who are gone, Jenny would dance with her ghosts…" -_ ** _A Storm of Swords_ **_, Epiloque._ **

**_"There is a song. Jenny of Oldstones_ ** **_, with the flowers in her hair." -_ ** _A Storm of Swords_ **_, Chapter 45_ ** **_, Catelyn V._ **

* * *

Lyanna was dancing with a stick in her hand. Her dark hair fluttering behind her as she struck without missing her rhythm. She spun and leapt, step back once more and attacked.

It was warrior's dance, but Lyanna was still new to the songs of swords. If only she had someone to teach her how to wield a sword and dance the warrior's dance... A fine knight mayhap, a knight of renown.

 **CLACK – CLACK – CLACK - SNAP**

Sweat dotted Lyanna's brows. It trickled down the sides of her face and nape. Her muscles were aching, her arms were shaking and her legs as well. Yet Lyanna did not stop training. The roughspun tunic she was wearing was already drenched in sweat and she started to rank in it.

Lyanna couldn't care less that she was dirty and of need of washing. Her sweat and her sore muscles were the testament to her hard-earned work while her scent might as well be the scent of her determination and devotion. She did not smell like a person who hadn't bathe for days. Lyanna told herself.

Perhaps people would wrinkle their nose if they smelled her, but she knew no one would dare tell her that she stinks. She was a Lord's daughter after all.

Stinking or not, it made no matter. Lyanna would still finish her training and take a bath in the hotspring afterward.

Lyanna spun on the balls of her feet and brought down the stick she was using as a practice sword in a quick slash against the Ironwood tree; once, twice, three times, with a **CLACK – CLACK - CLACK – SNAP** sounds as it hit the bark.

The sounds sliced through the silence of the Godswood and it was loud enough to have drawn attention. But no one ever came eventhough Lyanna had been practicing there for a while. Though, perhaps, it might be due to the fact that she had chosen the best time to train where she was certain everyone would be too busy to come and investigate the noise.

 **CLACK – CLACK - CLACK – SNAP**

Twisting once more, Lyanna felt the wind whipping against her face and threading through her dark hair as she moved. Her foot skidded on the ground to halt herself, dead leaves crackled beneath her bare feet as she raised her arm and slashed outward, aiming at the line marks that she had made on the Ironwood tree. Slicing left, then right, and lunging forward to stab at the target mark she had carved on the tree.

 **CLACK – CLACK - CLACK – SNAP**

The stick struck the mark close but slid against the smooth bark. The force of her attack produced such a vibration that run straight up to her arm. The stick did not break though. It was thick and sturdy enough to be use as a substitute for a practice sword. It was the only reason Lyanna had chosen it as stealing a practice sword from the armory would not go unnoticed.

Lyanna stepped back and spun on her feet fluidly, gracefully like she was dancing above water, threading lightly and swiftly, but without fear of sinking and floundering.

Speed and accuracy would come later, Lyanna understood this, and so she practiced by attacking without breaking her rhythm, and do so with eyes that had the lethal sharpness of a Direwolf, albeit sometimes she had to pause for a while to stop the strong dizziness that would assail her.

 **CLACK – CLACK - CLACK – SNAP**

Two moons had passed since Lyanna had started training in the Godswood. Every day, Lyanna had established a regular drill - different one each day - to improve the things that she needed to work on.

That day, she was working on a drill to find her rhythm, to improve her eye-hand coordination and orient herself to the dizzying effects of spinning, of being constantly on the move, but still remaining aware of her surroundings.

It was also to practice her footwork, to be swift as the wind, light as a feather, and yet silent as a cat.

The moss-covered ground in the Godswood muffled the sounds of footsteps, so Lyanna had taken to placing dried, dead blue leaves around the Ironwood tree she was practicing, where she would hear the crackling of leaves if she failed to thread on the areas that she was supposed to step on.

Along with her various drills, Lyanna still continued with her morning rides, finding many other things to improve on her horsemanship. This time she had convinced her older brother Brandon to go riding with her in the wolfswood, where she would send Buckbeak galloping through every obstacle that she happened by. Her thighs might as well be made of steel as she had remained seated even despite the many things she had pushed herself and her horse through.

Of course, Lyanna had been careful not to get Buckbeak injured, it could not be said the same thing for her as she had oft times ended up getting bruises and scratches from the low branches that she could not avoid in time.

Brandon had always been worried at her utter recklessness.

She recalled how her brother had been furious when Lyanna fell off her horse after a branch manage to hit her in the face. Lyanna had lain there dazed on the ground for more than was necessary that Brandon had taken her to be dead.

 _"The Others take you, Lyanna!"_ her brother had sworn after he had jumped off his horse to help her get up from the ground. _"I thought you were dead when you had not moved! Why had you not pause when I called for you?! Were you trying to kill yourself?!"_

 _"No,"_ had been her response when she had looked at the blood in her right hand. The branch of the tree had hit her hard that it had scratch a wound on her forehead.

She remembered hoping that it had left a scar by that time when her right hand came out bloody.

 _"You ought not to worry, brother. I'm tougher than I look. I have gotten far more worst injuries than this. A branch is nothing compared to getting walloped by a Whomping Willow."_

At her reply, Brandon had looked like she had said something bizarre.

 _"You must have hit your head too hard, sister, for I have never heard of this Whomping Willow you speak of,"_ had been Brandon's reply.

When she had gone on and explained to him what it was, Brandon had an expression that he thought her mad. Lyanna ignored it like she normally did every time she said something odd, which was happening often as of late.

 _"I don't want you riding by yourself once I leave for Barrowton, Lyanna."_ Brandon had told her, _"Who would come running after you if you hit your head again?"_

As usual, Lyanna didn't listen to her brother and continued with her training even after her brother had left for Barrowton. At least, Lyanna still have something to boast to her brother when he gets back from being fostered. Lyanna had never been shy in showing off her skill in riding a horse. She's been told that she was half a horse herself and rode like a northman. Lyanna took it as compliment.

Meanwhile, other than her morning rides in the wolfwood, she had kept attending Old Nan's lesson in the mornings and visited the kitchens with her mentor when the old woman baked lemon cakes. The shipment of lemons from White Harbor had not ceased and Lyanna helped with kneading the dough while she listened to Old Nan talked to the cook and the serving maids. Sometimes she asked them things that she could use, like how to ration food and what to prepare when making camp in the wilderness.

And as it happens, it appeared that carrying a bucket of water while she tended to the flowers in the glass garden was quite beneficial to her as well. It was a good enough reason for her to disguise in building muscles in her arms and shoulders. More than that, the task added calluses in her hands.

However, when Lyanna thought it was not enough for her to toughen and strengthen her arms, which she needed to aid her in holding a heavy sword and shield, and mayhap someday an iron lance, Lyanna began a different training.

She began to climb.

Lyanna purposely chose an Ironwood tree in the Godswood, finding it simply right to use the tree to strengthen herself until there was only cold steel and iron underneath. She had picked the one with the branches that she could easily reach and support her weight, and from there she began her pursuit to reach up the skies, in the only way she knew she could, since she can't actually fly.

Surprisingly, she was well-disciplined, as if this wasn't the first time that she had conditioned her body to take up this rigorous task of lifting her weight up. Although Lyanna always started with a basic stretch as not to injure her muscles.

The first week, she pulled her weight up and counted to ten, then a week after, it became five-and-ten, and a moon after, she counted to thirty. Lyanna kept on increasing the number until she had gotten used to it but she did not hesitate to push herself farther.

Lyanna wanted to do this training as she planned to climb higher still, to see Winterfell from the tallest tower, though it may not be as high as the skies but it would be enough to see the beautiful grey sprawl of her home and savor the wind brushing against her cheeks.

It would be close to flying than Lyanna could only hope for.

Climbing had also added calluses to her hands. Her fingers and palms had bled and blistered as she kept on pressing against the rough bark of the tree, most often than not, she got a splinter of wood embedded into her skin that she had to clean and put a salve on it.

And she had fallen so many times and had gotten scrapes on her knees, elbows, shin and even bruises on her face for her effort. Right up to that, she had begun to worry that her father and brothers might start to suspect what she had been doing, for some was injuries were noticeable, and she had kept on coming up with lie for each, and had taken to sneaking into the Maester's Tower to get some salves.

If she oft came to the Maester for healing the injuries she had gotten from her training, she was certain the old man would report to her father, and it wasn't something Lyanna looked forward to.

It was for this reason alone Lyanna decided that she needed to learn more about herblore, how to make her own salve, or the entire healing arts that might become useful to her, like Old Nan had suggested to her before.

However, that wasn't the only reason Lyanna planned to go to Maester Walys.

She knew that practicing in the Godswood would not be safe for long. Someone was bound to stumble into her there.

The Godswood was too open.

Lyanna needed another place to train.

She wanted to know any secret passages or rooms where she could easily sneak out and practice more, or read the books that she had 'borrowed' from Winterfell's library and from the Maester's collection; books about martial warfare, sword fighting manuscripts and instructional tomes.

Lyanna couldn't very much hide it beneath her bed or even read the books in the safety of her room without fearing of someone walking in and finding her reading them. Thus, she needed to get the map of Winterfell where she suspected Maester Malys must have hidden somewhere in his tower.

However, for her to obtain such a map, she must regain Maester Waly's trust and get the location of the map where the Maester had hidden it.

* * *

Lyanna watched as Maester Walys peered into his Myrish eyes to view the stars outside. Beside the tallow candle, lay a chart where the old man was charting the movements of the stars.

"There are seven wanderers in the sky over the Known World, each of which are sacred to the Faith of the Seven and equated with one of the seven gods." Maester Walys said, adjusting the lenses. "Among the seven wanderers is the red wanderer, where the Faith of the Seven equated the wanderer to the Smith, and known as the Thief by the Free Folk."

"Old Nan told me when the red wanderer is visible in the constellation of the Moonmaid, it is widely believed by the freefolks to be the right moment for a man to steal a woman."

"True, but such barbaric practices are not fit for a child to hear." Maester Walys said with censure. "Your Lord father should have sent for a Septa to teach you the womanly arts than let you suffer the nonsense talk the old woman fills your head with."

Lyanna did not comment. She enjoyed Old Nan's tales and the woman's teaching methods. Lyanna would have skipped her lessons if Old Nan's lessons had been dull, which it wasn't, unlike her lessons with the Maester.

Silence filled the room as Lyanna watched the Maester continue with his charting.

"As you know, milady, we maesters study the stars and use them to count the seasons, and help us create maps for navigation. In particular, sailors use the Galley, the Crone's Lamp, and the Eye of the Ice Dragon to navigate the open seas," Maester Waly's was saying while Lyanna's eyes wandered around the room, looking for a place that would tell her where the Maester was hiding the map of Winterfell.

She saw parchments in the corner, but she suspected that it wasn't where the Maester had hidden the map.

"If you are lost, milady, you can always rely on the Eye of the Ice Dragon which points to the North. Other than that, in a clear night such as now, you will be able to see other constellations such as the Ghost, King's Crown, Moonmaid, Shadowcat, the Sow, the Stallion, and by dawn, you will see the Sword of the Morning."

"There's a constellation named after the Sword of the Morning?" Lyanna asked in surprise.

"Aye, milady."

"What does it look like?"

"At night, the constellation will look like a warrior in the skies, ready for battle, but at dawn, it will look like a pale white star."

"I'm sure Ned would want to see it. He always tells me that he likes to become the Sword of the Morning."

"Your brother could become one, if he had been born a Dayne of Starfall, but unfortunately, your brother is a Stark. Although there is no harm in letting him dream of becoming one."

There was another pause while Lyanna finished her inspection around the room. If there was a place where the Maester had hidden the Winterfell map, it could be one of those cupboards where he placed his herbs and potions.

"Maester Walys…." Lyanna began. "I was wondering…if it's possible that you could teach me how to make a salve?"

The man looked up from his Myrish eyes to scrutinize Lyanna.

"Perhaps some other time, milady, mayhap in the mornings after your lesson with _that woman_. As of right now, you need to learn your stars. We never know when you might be lost and need a guide to your home."

She was glad that she did learn her stars or Lyanna would have gotten lost by the time she would go out riding in the Rills with Brandon during her visit in Barrowton.

* * *

 **Æ**

 **Astronomy (Fifth Year Class)**

 _"The star is called Arcturus, Harry. Not Regulus. Here, let me see." Hermione ordered, taking the telescope before Harry could protest. He watched as Hermione peered into the telescope. From the corners of his eye, he saw Ron rolling his eyes at him. Harry simply give a shrug in response._

 _"Yes, it's Arcturus. The brightest star in the constellation of Boötes ." Harry heard Hermione say, letting go of the telescope to look at him. " The easy way to find Arcturus is to follow the arc of the handle of the Big Dipper or Plough. By continuing in this path, you can find Spica , 'Arc to Arcturus, then spike to Spica '."_

 _"Do you mean the red star is called Arcturus?"_

 _"Yes, Harry. The fourth brightest star in the night sky. You need to chart it down."_

 _"Alright, Hermione."_

 _"Listen, both of you, together with Spica and Denebola or Regulus, Arcturus is a part of the Spring Triangle asterism, and by extension, the Great Diamond asterism. It is composed of the stars Cor Caroli in Canes Venatici , Denebola (the tail of Leo ), Spica , or the wheat of Virgo , and Arcturus in Boötes ."_

 _"Why is it called Boötes again, Hermione?" Ron asked, hastily scribbling down what Hermione had said. "Because the constellation looks like a left boot?"_

 _"Yes, partly that, Ron." Hermione said, frowning. "I think I've told you this three times already."_

 _"I failed to write it down the first time Hermione. Can you please repeat it again?"_

 _Harry watched in part amusement when Hermione threw her hand up in exasperation._

 _"You're hopeless, the both of you." Hermione said to them, but complied to Ron's request. "The name comes from the Greek Βοώτης, Boōtēs, meaning ' herdsman ' or ' plowman '. The name Boötes was first used by Homer in his Odyssey as a celestial reference point for navigation . In the myth associated with Boötes, it tells the tale that he invented the plow and was immortalized for his ingenuity as a constellation… I hope you're writing all this down Ron because I'm not going to say it again…"_

 _"I'm catching up, Hermione."_

 _"I hope you are…hmn… moving on. From what I read, the constellation Boötes is identified with Arcas , and also referred to as Arcturus, son of Zeus and Callisto . Arcas was brought up by his maternal grandfather Lycaon , to whom one day Zeus went and had a meal. To verify that the guest was really the king of the gods, Lycaon killed his grandson, Arcturus, and prepared a meal made from his flesh. Zeus noticed and became very angry, transforming Lycaon into a wolf and brought his son back to life. In the meantime Callisto had been transformed into a she-bear, by Zeus's wife, Hera , who was angry at Zeus's infidelity. This is corroborated by the Greek name for Boötes, Arctophylax, which means 'Bear Watcher'. Callisto in a form of a bear was almost killed by her son who was out hunting. Zeus rescued her, taking her into the sky, where she became Ursa Major, 'the Great Bear'. Sometimes Arcturus is depicted as leading the hunting dogs of nearby Canes Venatici and driving the bears of Ursa Major and Ursa Minor , the Greater and Lesser Bears.."_

 _"So you mean, Arcturus means Guardian of the Bear?"_

 _"Yes, Ron." Hermione nodded her head. "And with some professional scholars, it is where King Arthur got his name. From the Ancient Greek word Arktouros. Arktos for 'bear' and ouros for 'watcher or guardian.' This is a reference to its being the brightest star in the constellation of Boötes, of which it forms the left foot."_

 _"King Arthur. The once and future king." Ron murmured. "I know of his story and Merlin too… I remember my grandmother telling me how his father, King Uther, adapted the name Pendragon."_

 _"I know of the story too, Ron." Hermione responded in her usual know-it-all voice. "King Arthur's father acquired the epithet Pendragon when he witnessed a dragon -shaped comet, where it inspired him to use dragons on his standards. The epithet Pendragon comes from the welsh word pen, which means 'head, chief or top' and the dragon is borrowed from the Latin word dracō… Pendragon literally means 'Chief-Dragon' or 'Head-Dragon', while figuratively, it means 'chief leader', 'chief of warriors' or 'commander-in-chief.'"_

* * *

 ** _Author's Note:_** I apologize for the slow updates. Anyway, there will be a time-skip in this story. Don't worry. You will get to meet Arthur Dayne and Rhaegar Targaryen faster than you think. And as always, I hope you check out my edits for this story. Its in my profile. For this chapter, I made gifs and Aesthetic for the Arcturus star. And please don't hesitate to tell me what you think of this story.


	6. The End Begins

" **And now it begins," said Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. He unsheathed Dawn and held it with both hands. The blade was pale as milkglass, alive with light.**

 **"No," Ned said with sadness in his voice, "now it ends." As they came together in a rush of steel and shadow, he could hear Lyanna screaming. "** _ **Eddard!**_ **" she called. A storm of rose petals blew across a blood-streaked sky, as blue as the eyes of death.** "

- _A Game of Thrones_ , Chapter 39, Eddard X.

* * *

"Listen well, child." The three-eyed-raven croaked out. "You and _him_ are the same. I see it now…Both of you do not belong in this world. For both of you are strangers...strangers who were brought here…"

Lyanna frowned at this, silently wondering what the old man meant.

"It is for this reason _He_ have always wanted to break the wards surrounding the Wall and to take a certain book from the Citadel…This war is a long-time coming when everything has been written and foretold in the Book of the Stranger. The book that is signed with blood and protected by those who knows its history. The history of the Battle Isle and the bloodletting ritual that needed to be done as offering to the Gods… "

There was a paused while the three-eyed-raven scrutinized Lyanna with one red eye.

"'Wars are not good for trade', as a Hightower will tell you, but the keyholders of the Ironbank, has many, and great things to gain from war and the bloodshed to come than those petty Kings who quarrel over the Iron throne." The three-eyed-raven said, "The ink is dry and the future as you know it is written in the pages of that very book. The Book of the Stranger. It is it for this reason that you must remember what I must tell you, Lyanna Stark...So listen well."

"'The Night's King is only a man by day, but by night, it is his to rule'… The wards surrounding the Wall will only falter when both the father and the son will break their holy oaths…. when they turn their back against their vows and their sworn brothers… to fall into the mud and soil their cloaks…Remember that _the King_ is a strong skinchanger, and he will do everything he can to make certain his son will prevail in following his plans to break the wards of the Wall…Remember this. For he may use a direwolf to guide his son toward his end and resurrection...Remember…From father to son and his holy ghost...Do not be fooled by him so easily, Lyanna Stark."

* * *

 **Barrowton**

 **Three weeks later…**

"Here, Buckbeak. Let's rest here. You go on and drink the water from the stream." Lyanna said to her horse while she dismounted. She was careful in stepping over the muddy ground and choose a dry area to stand.

In silence, she watched as Buckbeak plodded towards the steam and began drinking water. Her brother, Brandon, hadn't come with her that very morning to ride in the Rills since her brother had been called to practice in the training yard.

"Just be careful, Lyanna." Her brother had said to her when she was about to leave. "And come back soon or I'll come after you if you don't come back before lunch."

"Alright Brandon," had been her reply.

Lyanna may be on her own, but she wasn't afraid. She had ridden the Rills since she had begun visiting Barrowton to see her brother and she had become familiar with the trails. There was no reason for the others to worry every time she went out riding by herself.

Thoughtfully, Lyanna surveyed her surroundings, noticing the tall and old oak and pine trees around her. She was just contemplating about climbing one of the trees when she heard something from behind her, like the sound of a twig snapping in two.

 _**SNAP!** _

Immediately, she grabbed the dagger that Brandon gave her that was hidden on her left boot and whirled towards the sound, crouching low and ready to attack, but to her consternation, no one was there. Only a creeping mist that seemed to appear out of nowhere, and thickening fast from the look of it.

Lyanna grew uneasy at the sight of the mist while she heard Buckbeak's fearful whinny. She rushed towards her horse, grabbing the reins before her horse could bolt away.

"Calm down, Buckbeak. Calm down." She tried to soothe the horse by brushing its mane, but the creeping mists still spooked the horse. "It's only a mist, Buckbeak. There's nothing in it."

She knew that it was a lie. There was nothing natural about the mist. The mist felt heavy that it caused the hair at the back of Lyanna's neck to rise.

Somewhere nearby she suddenly heard someone chuckling.

"Who's there?" Lyanna called out through the thickening mists. She held Buckbeak's reins tightly as the horse began to whicker and stomp the ground in its nervousness.

At the same time, Lyanna tightened her hold around the dagger on her right hand.

"Who's there?" She repeated. Her voice echoed through the woods but no one answered her question. The chuckling stopped while the mist did not dissipate. It continued to creep closer to Lyanna and her horse.

"Stop hiding and show yourself!" She demanded in part annoyance and part fear after a lapse of silence. Her instinct was telling her that she was no longer alone in the woods. Deep in her gut, she knew that there was another presence nearby.

"Behind you, milady." A voice said and Lyanna pivoted in that direction with her dagger raised high. Her eyes instantly landed on a boy of no more than three and ten years of age and wearing unusual clothes. The boy had black hair and dark skin. Clearly, he wasn't from the North, but from where? And why was he there in the first place? Lyanna could not see any horse beside him. Did he walk all the way there? If he did, Lyanna should have seen him earlier while she was following the trail.

"Do you mean to stab me with that dagger, milady?" the strange boy asked, cocking his head to the side. His dark blue eyes staring straight at her in amusement.

"I think I may have startled you too much. I do apologize if I did."

"You didn't," came Lyanna's hasty reply, lowering her dagger slightly but not completely. She eyed the boy cautiously, scrutinizing his worth and silently wondering if he was dangerous.

After a few seconds of deliberation, she decided that he wasn't.

"I wasn't startled…not really." She clarified, lowering her dagger further while still keeping a tight hold on Buckbeak's reins, where her horse had quieted down. "I'm just surprise to see someone here. That's all."

"Good to know." The boy responded, stepping forward from the oak tree he had been leaning into. "Because it was never my intention to scare you with my presence."

It was such odd words coming from a boy who was no older than she was. It sounded like he had been waiting for her there. Mayhap he had been waiting for her to pass by the stream. But why?

There was pause where the two of them eyed each other. The boy with a look of interest while Lyanna looked at him with a hint of wariness in her eyes.

"May I ask who you are?" She asked after a moment.

From the boy's loose clothing, Lyanna could guess that he was from the free cities. Yet the boy didn't appear to be bothered by the cold clime of the North. He wasn't shivering in the least despite the thin clothes he wore.

 _How odd to meet a stranger on my way to Barrowton Hall…_ She thought. _Odder still when he appears here of all the places, where it is just near the Great Barrow of the First King._

"I'm no one of importance." The boy said with a smile. "Just an ordinary page boy…But you can call me Ambrosius."

"Ambrosius…" she murmured, still watching him carefully. "If you are a page boy, where is the Knight your serve?"

"He's in White Harbor," came Ambrosius nonplussed reply, not adding more to his perplexing answer.

Lyanna was beginning to get unnerve staring at those pale blue eyes, which sometimes appear to look purple in the light.

"Then why are you here while he's there? Shouldn't you be with him?" Lyanna asked, frowning.

"I just came from Barrowton Hall where I was asked to deliver something. That's why I am here."

"Barrowton Hall is many leagues away. How are you able to travel from there to here without me seeing you following the trail?"

"Because I came by different means, milady," came Ambrosius' serious answer.

"By what means?"

"I flew on top of an ice dragon."

Lyanna scowled at that while Ambrosius suddenly let out a laugh after seeing her expression.

"That's not funny." She said, scowling fiercely. "Did you walk going here by any chance?"

"No, milady…like I said, I came by different means."

"How? If you run or walk, I would have seen you on my way here. Tell me truly how you arrived here."

After giving him a glare of such ferociousness, Ambrosius finally gave in.

"Fine," the strange boy sighed in defeat. "I walked going here. I wanted to see the place where it was said the First King was buried. I arrived here before you did."

"So you mean to say that you saw the Great Barrow where the First King was buried?"

"Yes,"

"And?" Lyanna pressed more for more answer. "How was your visit? Did you test the door to the Great Barrow?"

"Yes,"

"And did you feel anything when you open the door?"

"No,"

"I see…" Lyanna said, disappointed. "They say you will turn into a corpse when you try to open the door."

"As you can see, I didn't turn into a corpse. The curse of the First King is not true." Ambrosius said.

"I know." She said sadly, knowing this first hand after she and Brandon had first visited the Great Barrow. She had tried the door of the Great Barrow. It had opened at her touch but there was nothing inside to see but a sarcophagus which was hard to slide open.

Old Nan had said to her once that the First King had put a curse on the Great Barrow to prevent any living man from rivaling the First King.

She had sorely hoped that the curse was real when she had arrived in Barrowton Hall, with the hopes of proving that magic existed. But how disappointed she had been when she realized that the curse of the First King was not true. That had been three weeks ago. After knowing that there was nothing magical about the Great Barrow, it had left Lyanna dejected for days.

She had often visited the grave of the First King just to test the door and see for herself, but nothing came out from her visits, only frustration which often resulted to her riding in the Rills for hours to forget the feeling.

"Do you need a ride going back?" Lyanna asked Ambrosius out of kindness, feeling a surge of pity upon realizing that the other boy had walked all the way to the Rills from Barrowton. "You must be tired after all that walking. My horse can support both of us on the way back to Barrowton if you like to ride with me."

"If milady doesn't mind me riding with her, why ever would I deny her the pleasure of my company?" the boy said smiling, amusement lighting up his eyes.

Lyanna scowled at his words. She wanted to smack that smile off his face.

"But I won't need to a ride all the way back to Barrowton. You can drop me off on the way. I'll tell you where…"

"Alright," Lyanna's brows knitted while she tried pulling Buckbeak's reins.

"How rude of me." Ambrosius said suddenly, walking closer towards her. "You know my name already while I have yet to ask yours. May I know your name, milady?"

"My name is Lyanna." She replied, forgoing to mention her family name like the other boy seemed to deliberately did with his name.

"It is an honor to meet you Lady Lyanna." The boy did an elegant bow, drawing Lyanna's eyes towards the pack he was carrying on his back. She glimpsed the color yellow and orange on the opening. It appeared that the boy had been carrying a pack of fruits.

 _Lemons and Oranges from White Harbor._ Lyanna thought. _He must have been the one bringing those to Barrowton lately._

She blushed crimson when her stomach growled at the sight of the fruits. Suddenly remembering that she had forgotten to eat more that morning.

Ambrosius looked up at her and smiled.

"Do you want some blood oranges, milady?" the boy said all of a sudden, straightening up while pulling his pack in front of him. Lyanna neither deny or accept the offer, but kept silent while the boy took a blood orange from his pack.

"I can give you some as repayment for you giving me a ride." The boy handed the blood orange to her. Lyanna accepted the fruit mutely, her mouth watering at the thought of peeling the fruit and biting down on it.

"The fruits are from Braavos, but they are grown in Dorne. The merchant that Ser Haldon and I, whom we have sworn to protect, brought them here to trade in White Harbor and other Northern Houses." Ambrosius explained. "The blood orange is very sweet. I hope you will like the taste, milady."

"Thank you," Lyanna finally answered, stopping down her urge to hastily peel the fruit and take a bite. She was hungry. Yes. But she wasn't going to act on her hunger. She must first send Ambrosius to where he was meant to be. Her hunger could wait another few hours. Yet it seemed Ambrosius thought differently because he said to her.

"You must be very hungry milady after riding for so long. You can eat the fruit now if you want. Don't worry. I am in no hurry to be anywhere."

And like a hungry fool that she was, she took the bait and ate the blood orange in her hunger. With Ambrosius giving her more of the fruit to quench her hunger.

Later, as she was leading the horse back to Barrowton. She was glad that she followed the Eye of the Ice dragon or she would have ended up spending the night stuck with Ambrosius. Although her brother, Brandon, hadn't been too happy to discover that she had nearly lost her way.

Lyanna had dropped off Ambrosius on the way, and never know what happened to him afterward. She had only hoped that he had gotten back to White Harbor safely.

* * *

That night Lyanna dreamnt.

She dreamed of walking down the crypts of Winterfell, but something was different. The door she saw was the same door she had seen from the Great Barrow of the First King.

It was dark and cold down there, with the cold water up to her knees. There was no light there except for the torch she carried and from the glimmer of her sword on her right hand.

And when she opened the door to the lower level, Lyanna saw not a sarcophagus, but a man. His lower torso frozen to a well. With his hands chained above him and with a serpent dripping poison on top of his head. Every time the poison drip over the man, he would writhe in agony and screamed for help. His voice reverberating throughout the huge cavern.

"HELP ME!"

Lyanna had tried to free the man from his icy prison, but she woke up screaming instead when the snake attack her in her attempt.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I know this chapter bores you. I am so sorry. I swear there will be timeskip on the next one. I hope you check out the aesthetics and edit that I made for this story in my profile. For this chapter, you can check out the ones that I recently posted.


	7. Death is the Enemy

**Author's Note:** Before you proceed, I would like to first apologize for the very long update. I also want to apologize for the inconvenience that I have cause after I deleted the last chapter. I have to delete the last chapter since I wanted to add something to it. Anyway, I will be updating the next chapter within this month. Thank you so much for reading!

* * *

"There are wards on the Wall. The white walkers could not enter so long as the wards stand." The three-eyed-raven informed Lyanna.

"How does the wards work?" She asked after a moment.

Bryden River's one, red eye did a slow blink before her mentor rasped out his answer. "It works through an ancient and binding magic…" he said, his voice rattling. "- Brandon the Builder built the Walls and its wards to withstand the onslaught of the Night King's power. However, it only grew its strength when Aegon the Conqueror established the holy order of the King's Guards. And through the holy vows spoken by the Kingsguards to protect those who sit the Iron Throne, and the Night's Watchs' vows to protect the realms of men…with the holy brothers combine binding vows, the wards on the wall remain strong. However, the wards will weaken and break if both the father and the son betray their vows."

"What do you mean by both the father and the son?" Lyanna asked.

"As I have told you before, child, _the King_ is a powerful warg - a master skinchanger, who knows how to use his power to its full potential." The old man told her, "He can never die for he can live in a thousand skin, whether it is the skin of a beast, or possess the body of a man. His _Ghost_ can transfer and possess any form even when the King is beyond the Wall, for he has been using his power as a warg to don many disguises…he watches and has been waiting for the opportunity to bring down the wall, for his only goal is to have the rightful heir sit the Iron Throne…the one who possess the sword. Remember these words, child, ' _ **Winter is Coming**_ ,' and ' _ **Iron comes from Ice**_ ,' the Iron Throne does not belong to the line of the Dragonlords of Valyria, but belongs to the _First King_ , the first smith and the warrior who forged _the sword_. The King of the First Men, the Andals and the Rhoynar… The King who is also _**no one**_. The King's Ghost is so many that he has become a legion _._ He fights in the shadows, and even those he possesses does not know that he or she is being controlled and has become a pawn to his game of thrones."

"If he is so powerful, why hasn't he succeeded in his plan to take the Iron throne?"

"Because there are those who fight against him...who fights for the living…However, in truth, it took _the King_ all these centuries to set his plans in motion because he has been waiting for you, my dear."

"Waiting for me?" Lyanna asked, troubled at the implication. "Why me?"

"Because he has foreseen what you will become." The three-eyed-raven said. "Because you have the power to change the tide of war."

"What can I do?"

"You are magical, dear child. You are more than a greenseer or a skinchanger...You can do something more."

"Like what?"

"Something the King wants for himself."

* * *

 **276 AC**

"What are you doing, Lyanna?"

Startled, Lyanna almost dropped the thing that she has been brandishing around mid-air.

Her brother raised a brow at the sight of her holding a weirdwood branch, which almost look like she was holding a wand.

"Nothing." Lyanna responded hastily, putting both her hands behind her back and inwardly wincing at how lame her lie was.

"Really?" Ned's brow raised a fraction.

"Yes."

"You know, Lyanna…I can tell that you are lying." Her brother scolded, "Tell me honestly what you were doing… because it looks to me that you were practicing how to fight with a sword."

Caught redhanded, Lyanna swiftly grasped both her brother's hand and began imploring.

"Please don't tell father that you saw me, Ned." She said, gripping her brother's hand tightly. "I don't want him to know what I've been doing while I'm up here."

Ned must have followed her to the First Keep without her knowing and heard her practicing loudly in the Broken Tower. Even the ravens' cawing could not hide the noise she was making while she was lost in her own little world of fighting monsters in her mind.

Ned was frowning at her, his eyes full of censure, but after one look at Lyanna's pleading gaze, her brother finally relented.

"Alright, Lyanna." He said to her, sighing out loud. "I won't be telling father what I've seen here. However, you should probably try to find another place to practice, because I can hear you all the way down the entrance of the Keep."

"Thank you Ned!" Lyanna said lightly, finally letting go of her brother's hands.

For a moment there, she had been afraid that Ned would tell her father since she knew her brother was so honorable that Ned could not lie even if his life depended on it. However, it mustn't be in this case. Seeing her practicing probably wasn't much of a burden to bare in Ned's conscience if it means Lyanna learned how to protect herself.

"I know I was being noisy," she said as she began practicing with Ned watching her carefully. "-but I thought no one would notice me here since people are still too busy talking about the latest news from Kingslanding - about the birth of the second prince – and is it really true that father is going to attend the tourney at Lannisport in celebration for the prince birth?"

"Yes, Lyanna. It is true. It is for this reason father has called Brandon and I back from Barrowton and the Vale so that we can join him in the tourney at Lannisport. It will be the first tourney that we will be attending. I am certain Brandon wouldn't miss this opportunity to show off his skills in the list."

"Do you think father will let me go to the tourney too?"

"I do not know, Lyanna. You should ask father about it." Ned said uncertainly. "He'll probably want you to stay here with Benjen. Remember what father always tells us. 'There must always be a Stark in Winterfell', and Benjen is still too young to be left alone. You are needed here to watch over him and the entire household."

"I know…" Lyanna murmured softly, putting the weirdwood branch down. "I already know father won't let me go to the tourney, but I still wanted too though."

There was a moment of silence where Lyanna's excitement about the tourney was dampened by the fact that she wasn't allowed to go.

"Do you ever wonder why father always say that 'there must always be a Stark in Winterfell'?" Lyanna asked instead, changing the topic.

"No," came Ned's reply. "But if you listened to Old Nan stories, she tells the tale that it was to keep the monsters at bay, and to ward off those who are intent in stealing something from the crypts."

"There's always a grain of truth to Old Nan's tales." Lyanna told her brother, "I believe half of what she is saying."

"You shouldn't, Lyanna." Ned replied, "Her stories are merely childish fairytales... Do you remember the time she told us that there is a sleeping dragon living beneath Winterfell?"

"Yes, I do." She said, "There must be a dragon living beneath Winterfell for why else the water in the hotspring boils so hotly? It must be because of the dragon's breath."

"You and dragons." Ned shook his head and smiled. "You have always believe in dragons, even though Maester Walys has told us that they have all perished since the Dance."

"Mayhap the Maester is wrong, and not all of them died in the Dance of Dragons." Lyanna pointed out, "Mayhap some survive and live in secret."

"Mayhap, but we can't be certain of that until we see a real dragon…"

The courtyard rang to the sounds of steel against steel. A regal figure stood beneath the shade to observe the entire fight. His dark purple eyes narrowed in observation as his friend, Arthur Dayne slashed his blunted sword out in an incredible display of resolve and mastery against the master-at-arms, Ser Willem Darry. His friend was relentless in his lightning-quick slashes, which constantly slid past the older man's defenses and sent Willem Darry to his knees in a matter of a seconds in their third clash.

From this distance, Rhaegar could see his friend's stoic gaze when Arthur finally held up his sword against the kneeling man's throat.

"Yield," came his friend's gentle words but his face remained expressionless.

"I yield," the older knight said immediately, panting. His sword laying discarded on the ground. Willem Darry looked winded and worn out in his Kingsguard's armor with sweat dotting his brows. Rhaegar suppressed a grin at the sight. He had always been confident that his friend would win in the end.

"A great fight as always, Ser Arthur."

Rhaegar heard Willem Darry's compliment as his friend slowly helped the older man up.

"Thank you, Ser Willem."

Rhaegar stepped out from the shade and into the sunlight and began walking towards the two in the center of the courtyard. He could feel two of his Kingsguards – his shadows – following closely behind him.

This time it was Prince Lewyn Martell and Ser Oswell Whent who was guarding him under the orders of his father. The King had gotten more paranoid after the birth of his younger brother, Viserys, wherein Rhaegar couldn't utter a protest against his father's insistence to keep two guards with him at all times.

"You must be excited for the tourney in Lannisport," Ser Willem was saying when Rhaegar neared them.

Arthur noticed him immediately and made a show of greeting him formally.

"You grace," Arthur said, bowing shortly before straightening up. In the light, Arthur's eyes appeared to be a pale shade of blue instead of its usual purple coloring. His expression showed surprise at Rhaegar's sudden appearance

Willem Darry turned and saw Rhaegar as well.

"Your grace," the old man greeted and bowed lowly, and like Arthur, he was also surprise to see Rhaegar there. "Is there something you might require of us?"

"No, I'm just here to observe how my friend fairs with his fight against you, Ser Willem, since I've been informed by the others that the two of you could be found here." He said, nodding towards Prince Lewyn and Ser Oswell. "They informed me that you are training here in preparation for the tourney in Lannisport."

"Yes, your grace. Ser Arthur and I were training, but as you can see, my prince, Ser Arthur got the better of me." Willem Dary's admitted, "He's the Sword of the Morning for a reason…an admirable office to carry at his age."

Arthur Dayne was of the same age as Rhaegar, but his friend had obtained the title as the Sword of the Morning while at age of ten-and-three, while Rhaegar had only gotten interested in becoming a knight on that age.

Now, at the age of ten-and-six, Rhaegar was said to be on par with his friend, equal in standing with regards to martial prowess.

"True, but I'm more interested to see how Arthur fairs in a fight with me." Rhaegar said contemplatively. "I would like to see his progress in his training before I meet him on the list at Lannisport."

"I am honored, your grace, but are you certain that you would like to fight me?" came Arthur's question, his tone light. "I don't want to cause you any harm."

"I know you wouldn't harm me without reason, Arthur." Rhaegar said, picking up Ser Willem's blunted sword from the ground and began testing its weight. He signed for his guards – Prince Lewyn and Ser Oswell - to stand back and not interfere while Ser Willem moved to step out of his way.

"Now, face me like you would an enemy and don't hold back on my account." Rhaegar said to his friend, who responded with a glint of amusement in his purple eyes.

"As you command, your grace."

And like before, the courtyard rang to the song of swords as the two friends face each other.

It was another vision that Lyanna was seeing. This time she was walking in a hallway, walls made of black stone. It emitted such a fine sheen that it appeared greasy and gorged on the light that she could see from a brazier on an alcove, casting nearly all corners in shadows.

Lyanna crept slowly forward and towards an open archway where she heard voices. She paused at the open archway to peer inside and saw what looked to be a temple of some kind, all made of the same black stone with an oily sheen. Around the temple, she noticed unusual twisted black candles placed at intervals on top of rectangular stone pedestals.

Carved on top of the black ceiling was an open dome where Lyanna could see the velvety canopy of the night skies and the sea of stars twinkling down a huge fire pit contained by a stone fire ring at the center of the temple.

Lyanna's eyes finally landed upon the person standing and looking at the red fire on the fire pit. The person was speaking to the fire in a ululating foreign language.

At the sight of the hooded figure with the red-lacquered mask, Lyanna's fingers instinctively went to her breast pocket, her fingers twisting as if to grip unto something thin as a wood, but she was only wearing her night clothes and Lyanna didn't really know what she was looking for exactly.

Yet her right palm twitched once more, desiring to feel a weapon in her hand in able to defend herself because the sight of the masked figure made her hackles rise up.

As if sensing her stare, the person suddenly looked up.

Lyanna twisted sharply about and hid, pressing her back against the wall.

This was a dream, she knew that, but something about this place was screaming at her to run, that she was in enemy territory.

She trusted her gut instinct. With her heart racing, Lyanna stepped forward to make her escape, only to come face to face with a shadowy figure standing before her.

"ARGH!" She yelled in surprise, hastily moving away from it.

Quicker than she would have like, the thing slithered towards her like oil. A sword forming in its arm.

Inside the temple she heard the woman's voice rising shrilly, reciting something that her mind faintly registered as some kind of spell.

Panicking, Lyanna reacted by sheer instinct alone. She twisted on the balls of her feet and ducked quickly just as a sword came slashing where her head had once been.

She crouched low with her body still coiled tight, wincing when she heard the screeching sound that the blade emitted as it cut through close to her hearing. She heard a woman's voice screaming at her.

"Haaarrriii…", the voice seemed to say.

The sword didn't strike the black stone archway as Lyanna had expected, but past through it, seeping through the stone and then solidifying into a sword once more when it came out.

Once more, the shadow came for her.

With adrenaline coursing through her veins, she evaded another downward slashed, swearing loudly as she leapt back.

"Merlin's Hell!"

Frantically, her eyes skittered this way and that, searching for a possible weapon to use, at the same time, trying to find an escape. She silently reprimanded herself when she realized that the thing had purposely herded her inside the temple.

Now, Lyanna could see the cloaked figure properly. The woman's voice echoed on the vast cavern, and from this distance, she could see that the person's eyes were gleaming at she stared at Lyanna, seeing her there.

The person's eyes had a glassy, yet wet quality to it, akin to a transparent glass. Through the slits of the red mask, Lyanna also noticed that the person's eyes were ever-changing. She saw red eyes one second, then deep violets, then back to red. Meanwhile, around the woman's figure, there was a slight disproportion in the air.

 _A glamor,_ Lyanna realized, but her momentary distraction cost her.

She heard the blade screaming near her, and Lyanna glanced up in time to the blade drawing closer.

It had been too late to save herself from the deadly cut.

The shadow brought the blade in an outward horizontal slash and Lyanna could only manage to open her mouth in a silent scream as she felt the blade past through her body.

It slid fluidly through her flesh, cutting not her body, but something else inside her.

Something snapped in the confines of her mind.

At once, Lyanna fell on her knees letting out a choked scream when an instant white hot agony lanced through her. She clutched at her head and gritted her teeth.

The excruciating pain reverted in her mind, starting at her forehead and slicing straight to the back of her skull. Dark spots began to dance across her vision. Pain, so much pain that Lyanna momentarily black out, and soon enough she was falling into a cold, dark void. Hoarfrost and ice immediately coating her form. It slithered in cracks to cover her skin.

"A dark thing had come to spy, my lord…the darkness gathers…it's time to call the rest and warn the world…"

She heard the last words the woman said in the distance, her voice echoing within the void.

And Lyanna was still falling, falling, falling. The wind whipping around and against her. Cold and biting, scouring at her skin until she grew numb, until her skin turned milky blue.

Then, she fell into an ocean with a great splash. The water so terribly cold that it numbed her completely, even numbed what was broken inside her mind.

Hazily, Lyanna felt herself floating slowly down, water lapping at her from all sides. Bubbles rising from her mouth as she observed wispy streaks of light hitting the glassy surface of the water, creating a shimmering kaleidoscope of colors.

Lyanna could not feel anything.

She felt dead inside.

Voices began to seep into her ears, voices from throats that she couldn't distinguish from one to another.

Yet she listened to them like a Drowned God would want to do.

.

" _He has a song. He is the_ _ **prince that was promised**_ _…"_

 _._

" _ **Promise me**_ _, Ned._ _ **Promise me**_ _…"_

 _ **.**_

" _There must be one more._ _ **The dragon has three heads**_ _."_

 _._

 _"Hear me out, my prince. I know how you love your dragon dreams and your prophecies. I want to make you happy. Really, I do, but how can I do that when my womb is already ruined? I have given this one much thought in the last month as I watch you drown yourself in your sorrow, my love. I have come to accept that I cannot give you what you want, of what you hope for, for a third child to complete the prophecy. And so for the love that I have for you, I am – I am allowing you to seek another woman to give you what you want… So I propose a plan…a plan that will help you and others..."_

 _.._

" **Focus, child. Focus."** A raspy whispering voice was telling Lyanna, but her mind was a whirlpool.

It was hard to focus on something as rapid as the torrential water rushing towards her. There was no stopping the tidal waves and ripples which followed after either.

No.

There was nothing she could do but drowned.

The sea roiled and churned and Lyanna was consumed.

 _._

" _NO, FATHER! FATHER!"_

" _BURN, YOU FOOL! BURN! AHAHAHAHA!"_

" _LET HIM GO! LET MY FATHER GO!_

 _._

 _"Do you trust the man, your grace?"_

 _"No, not in the least, but I gave him the gold that he needs. I do not trust him, but he's the only one who is willing to betray his liege lord. More than that, he knows these lands better than we do. We have no choice but to rely that he keeps his silence."_

 _._

" _COME OUT AND DIE RHAEGAR TARGARYEN! LET MY SISTER GO AND FACE ME!"_

 _._

"… _It wasn't a coincidence, my love … Its fate. The girl is the perfect mother for the third child. A warrior at heart with uncontested skills with the horse. She will birth the finest Dragonrider that has ever lived - the_ _ **Visenya**_ _you wanted to complete the prophecy."_

 _"What you are proposing, Elia, can very well start a war, and that is something I cannot let happen, not with the current climate at court…"_

 _"Then, what shall you do Rhaegar if you cannot stomach this plan? Will you allow your dragon dreams to die? Can you not allow yourself to be selfish for once, my love? To be happy?"_

 _"It has been said that it is not my nature to be happy, dearest Elia. I was born in grief, and perhaps I will remain so 'till the day I die..."_

 _._

 _"If the night you had with Lady Ashara bore fruit, Brandon Stark...I promise you that my friend, Ser Arthur Dayne, and I will come to collect for the payment. I will give you the time to break the betrothal to the Tully's and convince your father that you marry Lady Ashara."_

 _ **.**_

" _ **Rise up, child! Rise or you will drown**_ **!"**

Lyanna heard the voice called out to her, but she was already choking on water, clawing at her throat to breathe, floundering in an ocean of possibilities, listening still.

 _ **.**_

 _"Oh Gods, how can I be so foolish?! I lay with that man...I lay with him. I let him take my maidenhead, and he is already betrothed to another …I've tried to speak to him, but he won't listen. He told me that he has to marry his betrothed, the Tully girl from Riverrun, as his father had wanted him to do to forge an alliance…I understand the reason behind it, but he shouldn't have led me on. He should have made me believe that he was interested in asking for my hand. He was so charming and handsome...and I was a fool! I thought he was interested in marrying me! But he was more interested in bloodying his cock with my maidenhead! He told me, that he_ _**'liked the sight of my maiden's blood in his manhood'**_ _, that damn boar! '_ _**A bloody sword was a beautiful sight to see'**_ _, he said, can you believe it Princess Elia? Can you believe that? *sobs* Brandon Stark knew nothing of honor! He does not care that he has ruined me!…Yet -yet I still care for him, despite what he had done to me!…*sobs* I'm such a fool! Fool! *sobs* Please, Princess Elia! Please, don't tell my brother! I do not know what Arthur will do to him if he finds out. I do not want Brandon to die if my brother challenge him to a duel_ _**. Arthur will surely kill him if he finds out**_ _…"_

 _._

" _The message must have failed to reach Brandon Stark. He did not follow us here to Gulltown, but he went to King's Landing instead."_

" _Who was the messenger?"_

" _The same man who helped Lyanna escape from the Riverlands... His name was Petyr, if I recall."_

 _._

" _You need to enter the list and win her the crown of winter roses, my prince, and remind the girl's brother of duty and honor…Remind him to do right by Ashara Dayne. She's your friend's sister after all. The Sword of the Morning will be in wroth if he caught a wind of this._

 _ **.**_

" _She is young yet, and full of silly notions of adventure. I am certain she will not want to be burden by a child. If she desires it, allow her a safe passage to Essos from Sunspear. Then, come back to me Rhaegar... Bring her child and we will raise the babe as ours, and then, and then, you can finally be happy with me..."_

 _._

" _You need not worry, dear Ashara. I've sent my husband to teach Brandon Stark what true honor is. The man will learn soon enough that a slight to your house is a slight to my husband's and mine."_

 _._

" _YOU –_ _ **YOU!**_ _OUT WITH IT, PRINCE! TELL ME WHY YOU REALLY DID IT! I'M SURE IT WASN'T TO HONOR MY SISTER!"_

 _"And yet, between the two of us, I think I know more of honor than you do Brandon Stark..."_

 _ **.**_

" _Do you think I am not worried of what you might do if I let you continue down this path?... I worry for you immensely, my prince, every time you locked yourself in here, without eating anything, even Arthur is worried too…"_

" _Are you afraid that I might kill myself? Is that the reason you've assigned a lookout to see if I'm on the verge of jumping off from Dragonstone?"_

 _ **.**_

 _"I think I'm with child, Princess Elia…It's his child…Brandon Stark." *sobs*_

 _ **.**_

" _ **Do not lose yourself!"**_

Lyanna was drowning now, water was filling her lungs. She writhed, twisting her body. Her throat and nose burned, her eyes nearly bulging from its sockets.

Desperate, she tried to swim upwards, gurgling pathetically for help but the current pulled her down, down, down…

 _._

" _How long have you known?"_

" _I know_ _ **you**_ _, Rhaegar. I know you very well, both the good and the bad in you. We've been friends for years and I know you have always been…_ _ **obsessed**_ _with the prophecy…"_

 _._

 _"You have dishonored my good friend's sister, and my wife's lady-in-waiting Ashara Dayne, Lord Stark."_

 _"And you retaliated in kind by dishonoring my own, Prince Rhaegar?! To make slight upon my House in front of everyone?! Even insulting your wife?!"_

 _"Dishonoring Lady Lyanna was far from my mind. The winter roses were meant to honor her in her part of the tourney, but it was my wife who has asked me to bestow those laurel to remind you of honor, Ser. Princess Elia is equally angry for what you have done to her dear friend and close confidant as I am. I did not confront you with this sensitive matters in front of your siblings, and Lord Robert, as I do not want to let this subject reach my good friend, Arthur Dayne. I can assure you that the Sword of the Morning will not be happy if he hears this."_

 _._

Lyanna could see a flock of dark shapes circling the skies, of ravens cawing and flapping their wings as dark clouds began to gather together in the far off distance.

A storm was brewing and it was ready to lash at the world above her in all its fury.

"RISE!" the ravens cried at her. "RISE!"

Lyanna continued to drown, struggling in futility.

 _._

 _"Arthur, if I do not win in the champion's tilt. Can I rely on you to bestow the honor of crowning the winter roses to the Stark girl?"_

" _May I ask as to the reason why I should do this, Rhaegar? People will come to wonder if I do. They will expect me to give the laurel to my sister. And I hear that the Lady is already betrothed to Robert Baratheon. It will be an unwise move, my friend. I do not want to acquire the wroth of the Stormlord."_

 _"I apologize Arthur for asking this of you. But it is very important that the winter roses must go to Lady Lyanna..."_

 _"What might be the reason, Rhaegar? Why must the laurel go to Lyanna Stark?"_

 _"Does she not deserve to be honored for protecting a defenseless man and teaching those squires a lesson of honor? It is perfectly understandable that either of us must acknowledged her valiant efforts as we were the ones who had unmasked her…but you most of all, Arthur. Do you not recall what she explained to us when we confronted her?"_

" _Yes, I do, your grace. I know she had don those armor to try and emulate me."_

" _Then, reward her for her chivalry in another way if you can't take her as your page or Knight her like you did with Ser Jamie Lannister. You and I both know how the she-wolf admires you, my friend. "_

 _._

" _Why are you set in trying to make me do this?"_

" _Because I love you, my prince, I love you too much and it pains me so to see you wasting away in here. Look at it this way. You are going to help poor Ashara and the Stark girl from their situations. Lyanna Stark does not want to marry Robert Baratheon, but you can give her something she wants the most."_

" _And what does Lyanna Stark wants?"_

" _Freedom and adventure. Her Sword of the Morning…and a song worth remembering…"_

 _._

" _And when if it's time for her to fly, you must let her go..."_

 _ **.**_

 _"I'm leaving."_

 _"What changed your mind?"_

 _"A song...A song I made for a ghost. You were right. Meeting Lyanna Stark was no mere coincidence.…the flowers in her hair, the leathern wings of a wolf, of snow and ice, of Arthur...the tower. It's all there. It's in the song. All of it. The fate has spoken and so I must go where ever it might lead me. The dragon must have three heads."_

 _ **.**_

 _"I'm relieving you from your duties as my lady-in-waiting, dear Ashara. I'll allow you to go back to Dorne before your dear brother noticed something amiss."_

 _ **.**_

Her ears were stuff with wool, the voices she could hear becoming hard for her to sift through the whirlpool that became of her mind, her throat was rubbed raw with salt, and she felt her lungs had been cut into fine little ribbons by a seastone dagger.

She lay there slowly sinking into the very depths of the ocean with fish-dead eyes, her arms spread on either side of her while her dark hair floated like a wisps of smoke on water.

Above her, a battle was raging. She saw the crackle of lighting and heard the distant thunder. The cloud of ravens whirled about like a hurricane, crying for her insistently.

Yet Lyanna remained submerged.

Lost in the maze that her mind had constructed.

She had no other way but go deeper into the labyrinth.

 _ **.**_

" _You are playing a_ _ **dangerous game**_ _, my lady...I can manage on my own. Please do not ask me again if you could put balms on my wounds.…because I do not trust myself when I'm alone with you…"_

 _ **.**_

 _"I heard Lyanna Stark praying to her Gods in Harrenhall, for a savior to help her out from marrying Lord Robert Baratheon. And now…now, I'm going to answer her prayers by sending her you and Arthur Dayne."_

 _._

Then, there was the burst of flames above her, a fire so hot that set the ocean into boiling, bubbles forming at the surface of the water and casting an eerie red light down at her.

Ruby red like the color of blood.

Another God had come to join the battle with fire and blood.

 _._

 _"Have someone give this to her when you are about to retrieve the girl. This will convince Lyanna Stark to follow any messenger you send to her and guide her to the location you planned to meet."_

 _"What does the missive contain, my lady?"_

 _"I've told her that you will be helping her get out from an unwanted marriage."_

 _"And?... Is that all?"_

 _"Well, no... I might have offered her something that she won't be able to resist."_

" _And what is it?"_

" _To be train by the Sword of the Morning."_

 _._

" _Do you know she was half in love with you before you even began training her? She looked up and pined after you, Arthur, chasing after a star that was not willing to fall. It was painful to watch. You drove her away and that was your mistake."_

 _._

" _Stars fall and bleed, my friend…"_

" _As do dragons, your grace…"_

 _._

" _She bit you…and_ _ **hard**_ _. You must have bled from the wound..."_

" _Yes…_ _ **I bled**_ _…the Lady was in wroth…I might have said something to her that made her angry during her training. I did not mean anything by it but the Lady lost her temper and…well – she..."_

" _And so she bit you?"_

" _Yes…she's –she's…_ _ **a wild thing..**_ _. same as her hot-blooded brother..."_

"…"

" _Perhaps it's best that I stop letting you train her…and I will train her myself… Why is it every time you are with her you always manage to get her furious? This is happening oft times that I am beginning to worry. What do you always say to her?"_

" _The Lady simply doesn't like me, your grace…that is all…"_

" _Ahaha…oh, how wrong you are, my friend…The Lady likes you well enough to make you bleed and even left a mark on you."_

 _._

" _For you, I have fallen… for you, I shall bleed...For you, I will fall and bleed a hundred times - a thousand times - because I love you…that's the seal of my devotion to you and the children you carry."_

 _._

The voices became distant, fading quickly.

The only sound she could hear was the sloshing of water through her ears and the weak pounding of her heart.

At last, Lyanna's eyes fluttered shut, no longer disturbed by voices she could hear.

She continued to drift down in to the watery halls of the drowned. Her dark hair fluttering about her like tendrils of dancing shadows.

Lyanna thought herself already dead, but then she heard the singing.

Voices so clear and sweet. She could almost taste it in her tongue.

" _ **Come seek us where our voices sound,"**_

The water stirred around her, still hearing the song.

It was insidious melody that lulled her to lower her guard.

" _ **We cannot sing above the ground,"**_

She felt hands on her legs and arms. Webbed hands. Slippery and slimy.

Yet soothing, calming, and dragging her down.

" _ **And while you're searching ponder this;"**_

The hold on her limbs tightened.

" _ **We've taken what you'll sorely miss,"**_

Squeezing, squeezing her limbs that she could no longer move.

Yet Lyanna didn't mind.

She was enthralled.

" _Remember who you are, great one…the others know, do you?"_ a voice whispered to her, before suddenly, a thousand voices chorused at once, _ **"What is dead may never die."**_

Lyanna's eyes shot opened, and her eyes immediately saw not mermaids holding her down, but a Kraken.

It's huge eyes staring down at her. One of its limbs dangled what appeared to be a golden dragon egg where she could hear the singing coming from. Lights danced and shimmered mesmerizingly from the liquid it contained, like a galaxy of stars.

" _ **But rises again,"**_

Without warning, Lyanna's body seized, twisting and contorting. She opened her mouth and screamed, air bubbles rose out from her mouth. She felt spikes of pain racing on either side of her neck, her hands, and foot.

Lyanna felt the change. The skin stretching between her fingers and toes.

And then, and then, suddenly, Lyanna could breathe through water. Sweet breath that she gulped greedily while an instant exhilaration filled her.

The Kraken's eyes glowed a fiery red. The monster opened its beak-like maw, revealing thousands of razor sharp teeth; ready to grind her bones into dust.

Power surged inside Lyanna and she lashed out without a second thought.

 _ **DIFFINDO!**_

There was a blue streak of light that burst out from her hand before the limbs that held her was severed. All four cut away by the pale blue light. Black blood poured forth from the severed parts, staining the water in an instant, like a black curling ink. It spread fast.

The golden dragon egg snapped shut and the singing came to a final stop.

She watched it fall and plunged further into the deepness.

" _ **Harder and stronger,"**_

And the Kraken roared in anger, causing such giants waves that Lyanna was propelled back, spinning uncontrollably, flipping upside down until she was dizzy and nauseous.

As she was spinning, Lyanna momentarily caught sight of an elaborate maze below her, a maze built from black stone, where she could see a light shining from the center.

Roaring, the Kraken snapped forward to attack her once more.

It's tentacles – four of which were already shortened – shot towards her. All eight of them.

Lyanna didn't hesitate and flipped sharply about and brought her hands down.

A burst of blue light came from her hands, like a lash, it cut through the monster's limbs, snapping and twisting – CUT- CUT –CUTing – every limb that came for her.

Black blood stained the water so thickly that Lyanna could hardly see. Yet she could hear the Kraken's roar of undisputed fury and pain that she was pushed further back once more.

The Kraken writhed, dying slowly.

It was time to make her escape and Lyanna looked up towards the surface, where she could see the water churning, where it had turned into the color of blood, bathed by the fiery glow of fire and punctuated by streaks of lighting and the deafening boom of thunder.

Above her some Gods were fighting.

" _ **RISE!"**_ the crows cried out.

 _ **ASCENDIO!**_

She ascended like a weapon of a sea god, spearing through water and she shot up, up, up to join the battle raging above her. Power pulsed within her and sense the creatures of the sea shiver in fear when it spread outwards into the ocean like a pulsing beacon.

She was unstoppable when she burst out of the water in a shimmering sea spray, and straight into different kind of battle.

Into fire and blood and the fury of the storm.

Lyanna Stark rose for war.

Soon enough, she broke the surface of the water and emerge amidst the two knights fighting in the ford. To her surprise, she emerged in full armor and a sword in her right hand.

 **"PRINCE RHAEGAR!" "LORD BARATHEON!" "TARGARYEN!" "BARATHEON!" "RHAEGAR!" "LORD OF THE STORMS!" "DRAGON PRINCE!"** The soldiers assembled on either side were shouting and cheering for their respective Lords.

Momentarily, she was stunned as she looked at the two men fighting in the knee-deep water. One man was wearing the colors of House Baratheon and he wielded a hammer in his right hand. The other man had the three-headed-dragon of House Targaryen adorned with rubies on his breastplate and he was using a sword to slash at his opponent.

She watched them fight and Lyanna wondered the reason behind their personal battle. It was obvious that the two were at war just by judging from the armies that they had brought with them.

"WHERE IS MY BETROTHED, YOU BASTARD?!" The Baratheon knight shouted through the den of chanting soldiers while he raised his Warhammer with the intent of pummeling the Targaryen. "WHERE IS MY BELOVED LYANNA!"

Lyanna was startled at the mention of her name and she stared at the strange man who spoke like Lyanna was his to own.

"LYANNA IS NOT WITH ME!" the Targaryen replied, avoiding the smash of the Baratheon's mighty warhammer as the bear of a man tried to hit him. "BUT I BELIEVE SHE'S SAFE! SAFE FROM YOU BARATHEON!"

Robert Baratheon roared in fury while he whirled his warhammer to begin a non-stop assault at his adversary.

As she stood there watching them, Lyanna wondered if she was truly the reason to have cause this battle between the two men.

If it was, she wasn't happy about it.

 **"PRINCE RHAEGAR!" "LORD ROBERT!" "TARGARYEN!" "BARATHEON!" "PRINCE RHAEGAR!" "LORD ROBERT!"** The soldiers continued to chant and cheer.

And Lyanna realized that the Targaryen knight was the Prince himself while the other man must be the heir to Storm's End, and she supposed, her betrothed.

The Prince slashed out with his broadsword and cut at the Baratheon's thigh. Lyanna saw the Baratheon stumble and she realized that he was injured. There was a ripple of shock gasps across the Baratheon line while a huge cheer erupted from the Targaryen army as Robert Baratheon fell on one knee.

 **"END HIM MY PRINCE!" "KILL THE USURPER!" "KILL THE STAG!"** The Targaryen soldiers shouted in renewed bloodlust.

Then, The Targaryen Prince moved in for the kill. The man drew near to the kneeling man and Lyanna walked closed as well. She knew they could not see her. Lyanna was a mere specter in this vision of the morrow.

As the Prince halted in front of the kneeling man and was about to deliver the killing blow with his sword, the Baratheon suddenly bellowed his intent, **"DIE YOU BASTARD!"** and there was a feeling of dread that crept Lyanna's spine when the Lord of the Storms stood up abruptly.

"LOOK OUT!" Lyanna yelled, her voice echoing, and for some curious reason, the Prince turned towards her direction as if he heard her. She was standing just close to the Prince's right side, and whether he heard her or not, Lyanna could only wonder in horror as the Baratheon heir whirled, slamming his warhammer against the breast plate of the distracted Prince.

At once, rubies flew everywhere as the Prince's breastplate caved in from beneath the hammer's blow and she knew that the Prince was as good as dead.

 _No…_ Lyanna thought with horror as the Prince fell into the water, gasping for breath and choking on his own blood.

 _Did I just cause his death?_

As he knelt there, he stared at Lyanna as if he could see her; _her_ , a child of no more than nine years of age and wearing armor and holding a sword in her hand.

Through his helm, Lyanna could see the Prince's purple eyes dimming while he murmured a woman's name.

" _Visenya_ …" The Prince said, looking at her before he breathed his last.

Then, the vision dimmed and faded.

" _Three heads has the dragon_..." The voice of the three-eyed-raven said in mournful tone. "He has his first born named after Rhaenys, and his second child as Aegon. Visenya will be the name of the third child he thinks he has with you…"

Lyanna didn't say anything as she listened to her mentor. She remembered how the Prince had looked like when he had stared at her. The Prince had appeared relieve to have seen her, as if the sight of her had somehow fulfilled some kind of prophecy.

Prince Rhaegar was almost at peace before he died.

"It seemed the Prince saw you, but only for a moment." Bloodraven said, "He must have thought you the vision of the third child he so desires. A girl who would grew to become a warrior woman…The new Visenya to his son's Aegon… _'The Dragon has three heads.'_ The Prince always believes in such prophecies. Prince Rhaegar will chase his dreams of dragons, but it will someday bring an end to him and his entire House..."

"What do you want me to do then?" Lyanna asked, "I understand that him and his wife had desired to have a third child by using me. And don't deny it. I heard their voices when I was drowning. They were planning to take my child once I gave birth and send me off somewhere to the Free Cities, like I would willingly leave my child, or children with them."

"The voices you heard were sent as warning to you for what was to come. War is a horrible and terrible thing, yes, but is it nothing compared to the Twilight of the Gods, as they call it. You must find a way to stop it child. The _End of all Things_ is almost upon us."

"How do I stop it when I don't even know who the true enemy is?" Lyanna said in mounting frustration. She really hated it when Bloodraven used cryptic words on her.

"My only advice for you, child, is _don't let his eye fall upon you_."

"Whose eye?"

"The Eye of God..."

"There are many Gods. Who is the God you are referring to?"

"Dear one, there is only but one God…and his name is _Death_. He is the God of Many-faces…and this final vision that I will show you, you will know who he is, for he has taken you for his wife."

Without warning, Lyanna was transported into another vision. This time it showed her of a man holding a babe in his arm. A man who belonged to the Order of the Kingsguard.

However, Lyanna saw something else as well. Behind the White Knight stood a huge, dark shadow with three wings like that of a bat.

"Who is he?" Lyanna whispered while a shiver of fear raced down her spine as she saw the shadowy figure's glowing pale blue eyes.

"You will know him soon enough. But that knight has been influence like so many others. The shadow behind him is the enemy, who can influence any man he wants, even such an honorable man of the Kingsguard… And as I have said before, he is only a man by day, but by night, when the _end begins_ , it is his to rule. You may have heard of him before because he comes from your world as well. I believe so now…You may know of him as a true dragon, a fallen watcher, and the devil. He is also a trickster, a mischievous entity who can skinchange. He goes by many names in your world, I am sure, but in this world…He is a dying and rising God, he can never be killed in this world, but this world, too, has also become his prison...This Great Other also thinks of himself as the First King of the First Men, the Andals and the Rhoynar, and all the human races…But most of all, he call himself the light bringer of the world. However, to you and I, Lyanna Stark, he is Death, and the Dragon with Three Heads."

* * *

" **And now it begins,"** **said Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. He unsheathed Dawn and held it with both hands. The blade was pale as milkglass, alive with light.**

 **"No," Ned said with sadness in his voice,** **"now it ends."** **As they came together in a rush of steel and shadow, he could hear Lyanna screaming. "** _ **Eddard!**_ **" she called. A storm of rose petals blew across a blood-streaked sky,** **as blue as the eyes of death.** "

- _A Game of Thrones_ , Chapter 39, Eddard X.

* * *

 **Information from Wikipedia:** This Bible version took the word from the Latin Vulgate,[4] which translated הֵילֵל by the Latin word _lucifer_ (uncapitalized),[5][6] meaning "the morning star, the planet Venus", or, as an adjective, "light-bringing"

*The term appears in the context of an oracle against a dead king of Babylon,[29] who is addressed as הילל בן שחר ( _Hêlêl ben Šāḥar_ ),[30][31] rendered by the King James Version as "O Lucifer, son of the morning!" and by others as "morning star, son of the dawn".

* In Latin, the word is applied to John the Baptist and is used as a title of Jesus himself in several early Christian hymns. The morning hymn _Lucis largitor splendide_ of Hilary contains the line: " _Tu verus mundi lucifer_ " (you are the true light bringer of the world)

* In a modern translation from the original Hebrew, the passage in which the phrase "Lucifer" or "morning star" occurs begins with the statement:

 _"How you have fallen from heaven, morning star, son of the dawn! You have been cast down to the earth, you who once laid low the nations! You said in your heart, 'I will ascend to the heavens; I will raise my throne above the stars of God; I will sit enthroned on the mount of assembly, on the utmost heights of Mount Zaphon. I will ascend above the tops of the clouds; I will make myself like the Most High.' But you are brought down to the realm of the dead, to the depths of the pit. Those who see you stare at you, they ponder your fate: 'Is this the man who shook the earth and made kingdoms tremble, the man who made the world a wilderness, who overthrew its cities and would not let his captives go home?'"_

 **In short, Lucifer means Lightbringer. In a Song of Ice and Fire, it is the sword of Azor Ahai.**

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Thank you for reading! Your reviews fuels my passion for writing so please don't hesitate to tell me what you think! If you want to see the aesthetics, story trailer and photoshopped edits that I made for the story please check out my twitter, facebook pinterest, youtube or tumblr account. But you can always contact me on _**twitter, facebook or tumblr** _ so please don't be a stranger and let us be friends!


	8. The Deathly Hallows

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** I apologize for the very long update and the short chapter. But I still hope you enjoy reading this.

* * *

 **RECAP**

Bryden River's one, red eye did a slow blink before her mentor rasped out his answer. "It works through an ancient and binding magic…" he said, his voice rattling. "- Brandon the Builder built the Walls and its wards to withstand the onslaught of the Night King's power. However, it only grew in strength when Aegon the Conqueror established the holy order of the King's Guards. And through the holy vows spoken by the Kingsguards to protect those who sit the Iron Throne, and the Night's Watchs' vows to protect the realms of men…with the holy brothers combine binding vows, the wards on the wall remain strong. However, the wards will weaken and break if both the father and the son betray their vows."

"What do you mean by both the father and the son?" Lyanna asked.

.

"LOOK OUT!" Lyanna yelled, her voice echoing, and for some curious reason, the Prince turned towards her direction as if he heard her. She was standing just close to the Prince's right side, and whether he heard her or not, Lyanna could only wonder in horror as the Baratheon heir whirled, slamming his warhammer against the breast plate of the distracted Prince.

At once, rubies flew everywhere as the Prince's breastplate caved in from beneath the hammer's blow and she knew that the Prince was as good as dead.

 _No…_ Lyanna thought with horror as the Prince fell into the water, gasping for breath and choking on his own blood.

 _Did I just cause his death?_

As he knelt there, he stared at Lyanna as if he could see her; _her_ , a child of no more than nine years of age and wearing armor and holding a sword in her hand.

Through his helm, Lyanna could see the Prince's purple eyes dimming while he murmured a woman's name.

" _Visenya_ …" The Prince said, looking at her before he breathed his last.

.

"Who is he?" Lyanna whispered while a shiver of fear raced down her spine as she saw the shadowy figure's glowing pale blue eyes.

"You will know him soon enough. But that knight has been influence like so many others. The shadow behind him is the enemy, who can influence any man he wants, even such an honorable man of the Kingsguard… And as I have said before, he is only a man by day, but by night, when the _end begins_ , it is his to rule. You may have heard of him before because he comes from your world as well. I believe so now…You may know of him as a true dragon, a fallen watcher, and the Devil. He is also a trickster, a mischievous entity who can skinchange. He goes by many names in your world, I am sure, but in this world…He is a dying and rising God, he can never be killed in this world, but this world, too, has also become his prison...This Great Other also thinks of himself as the First King of the First Men, the Andals and the Rhoynar, and all the human races…But most of all, he call himself the light bringer of the world. However, to you and I, Lyanna Stark, he is Death, and the Dragon with Three Heads."

* * *

 **PRESENT**

"But before I leave you at peace with your dreams, dear child." Brynden Rivers said, "Let me show you one last vision."

Once more, Lyanna was transported into another scene. This time Lyanna could see three white knights standing outside a tower and seven others standing opposite them, and they seemed to be preparing for a fight.

As she scrutinized each of them, she suddenly recognized one of the knight. It was her brother, Ned, who appeared to be the leader of the group opposing the three King's Guards.

"What are they doing?" she asked, both curious and worried at the same time. She was concerned about Ned's welfare after all, even though this was only a vision of another morrow.

"Just listen to them speak, child." The three-eyed-raven said, "This will be brief."

 _"I came down on_ _Storm's End_ _to lift the siege,"_ Ned said to the three King's Guards _., "And the Lords_ _Tyrell_ _and_ _Redwyne_ _dipped their banners, and all their knights bent the knee to pledge us fealty. I was certain you would be among them."_

 _"Our knees do not bend easily,"_ said the knight carrying a two-handed long sword. He had dark hair and purple eyes and looked taller than the other men. If she were any older, Lyanna might even consider him handsome.

Then, the vision seemed to still. Lyanna's eyes remained focus on the purple-eyed knight who stood proudly between the other two King's Guards.

"What can you say about him, child?"

"He says something like a wildling would." She said as she continued to appraised the White Knight, taking note of his sun-kissed skin and his strong, masculine features. "Wildlings doesn't kneel to anyone."

"Yes, and what else?"

"The knight has too much _Pride_ in him."

"True, and Pride is a sin in a knight such as him." The three-eyed-raven said, "When a King's Guard takes his holy oath, he must always remember to let go of the deadly sins that would weaken him in the eyes of the Seven, Pride most of all. And as a Warrior, he must know this too."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because the knight's pride will be his downfall, as well as his salvation."

"Who is he? Why are you showing him to me?"

"Because I want to show you the man who will bring your Death. He may look like any other man by day, but he is not. The knight's name is Ser Arthur Dayne, and he is the person you must avoid at all cause."

After hearing him say that, Lyanna woke up with a gasp and with her heart thundering wildly against her chest.

…

..

.

Harry James Potter was one-and-ten when he started to remember vague memories of his past. It began when she was riding at the Rills with Buckbeak that she had flashes of images bursting into her mind which nearly resulted to her almost falling off her horse.

In that moment, she saw memories of a young boy flying with an eagle-like creature over a lake and shouting at the top of his lungs in exhilaration.

At first, she didn't know who the boy was, or what he meant to her, not until the end of the day when she began to remember the face she wore in her past life.

It was him.

Harry James Potter.

A student of Hogwarts, and afterward, the Head of the Magical Law Enforcement.

An Auror who had a wife and a son.

It was a wake-up call to Harry which left him quite distraught upon realizing that he had died and was now living as Lyanna Stark.

And since that day, the memories continued to intrude into Lyanna Stark's present life, and bit by bit, she started to regain her – his true identity as the years passed by.

Even his magic.

* * *

 **280 AC**

"Lumos," Lyanna muttered and watched as the tip of her weirdwood wand burst into light.

"It's working!" She whispered excitedly to the raven perched at the foot of her bed. "With this weirdwood branch that the Children of the Forest carved. I think I can reproduce every spell-casting I learned from my past life! Thank you so much for bringing it to me, Brynden!"

In response, the raven merely nodded its head and cawed loudly, flapping it black wings to show that it understood.

"One day, I will come visit you Beyond-the-Wall," Lyanna promised, "You've done so much for me since I began to remember who I am. At the very least, let me give you something in return."

But of course, the raven's answer was to shake its head and fly out the window.

Later that night, the three-eyed-raven visited her in her dreams.

"You need not worry about giving me something in repayment, Lyanna." He told her as they stood in front of the black door where Lyanna could see the symbol of the Deathly Hallows.

"But you've been helping me for so long, and I haven't even done anything for you." Lyanna said to him, a frown marring her brows. "I don't even know your birthday."

The three-eyed-raven simply laughed at her last comment.

"It's what I do, Lyanna. I guide those who needed guidance, and watching you grow and discover your identity, and finally, your power in accordance to the plan that we have set for the future of the world, is enough of a repayment for me... In your world, you mentioned about businesses."

"Yes,"

"Then, in other words, if I were a business man, then you are my investment. I invest upon your growth."

Lyanna was amused by Brynden's modern analogy. She should have known that the old man's mind was still sharp that he seemed to remember every little things she told him about his past life.

"Why did you bring me back here?" She asked, going back to the topic at hand as she looked at the black door with the flashing symbol of the Deathly Hollows.

"I brought you here because I finally know what is inside that locked door." The three-eyed-raven whispered in the wind.

"What's in there?"

"All the three Deathly Hallows you mentioned are there."

Lyanna's heart began to beat erratically against her chest after hearing the three-eyed-raven's words.

"But it's lock." She said, "How do I unlock it?"

"You must find the key, Lyanna."

"But I don't know where it is."

"The Door is inside your mind, Lyanna Stark. The only way to find the key is by searching through yourself. And once you find it, I believe, you may be able to access the power of all the three Hallows. As both Lyanna Stark and Harry Potter, you could be an unstoppable force to behold with that kind of power... Hence, you must find it, child. Before we are too late. Remember the wars to come."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Thank you for reading! Your reviews fuels my passion for writing so please don't hesitate to tell me what you think! If you want to see the aesthetics, story trailer and photoshopped edits that I made for the story please check out my twitter, facebook pinterest, youtube or tumblr account. But you can always contact me on _**twitter, facebook or tumblr** _ so please don't be a stranger and let us be friends!


	9. Interlude: The New Future

Lyanna began practicing the spells she has used in her past life, but the wand couldn't produce a strong spell such as Protego Totallum, Expecto Patronum and even Diffindo, and other complicated spells. However, she had tried using the spells Lumos, Expelliarmus, Petrificus Totalus, Alohomora and Wingardium Leviosa, and all work just fine.

Still, Lyanna needed a different wand that could reproduce those powerful spells she had used before when she was working as an Auror.

"I needed a magical core for the wand." Lyanna told Bryden that very night when she realized what was lacking in her wand.

"How about the hair of a Direwolf?" Bryden suggested immediately, already knowing what a wand core was. "I think it would be fitting for you considering you are of the House Stark."

"Let's try it." She replied after a moment of consideration.

.

The following days, Bryden communicated to her through dreams about the progress of the second wand the Children of the Forest was making for her.

"It will probably take another three days before the wand is ready, Lyanna." Bryden said to her.

In the meantime, Lyanna kept sneaking into the Godswood to train some more. She wanted to regain back her strength and improve on the new skills she had acquired in this life.

However, three days later, her new wand arrived.

Two ravens had to carry the load and when Lyanna opened the leaf wrappings around the wand, she was quite impressed at the lengths that the Children of the Forest had gone to carve the wand. The weirwood wand was bone white with elaborate leaf and vine carvings, which was colored in red. Meanwhile, the handle was wrapped with some kind of fur-material, probably from a Direwolf.

The wand was simply beautiful and especially light when carried.

During the night, the three-eyed-raven told her that the wand not only contain the hair of a Direwolf, but a hair of giant and from Leaf, a Children of the Forest. Since giants and Children of the Forest were considered magical creatures here in Westeros, Lyanna hoped that the combine hair strands of the three magical creatures would serve as a conduit for magic, which she could redirect her magic through.

The next day, she tested the wand in the Wolfswood and she soon discovered that the wand worked better than she expected.

It was even more powerful than her wand in her previous life.

.

The Tourney of Harrenhall is drawing near, and Lyanna continued on with her spell casting practices. More than that, she had also honed her sword-fighting and archery skills with the help of her brothers, who were willing to cover up for her every time Lyanna's father keep noticing her absence in Old Nan's classes.

"To avoid your fate, and to save your future, the only thing you must do is _ **not**_ to attend the Tourney at Harrenhall." Bryden had said to her a week before the Tourney. "If you don't attend the Tourney, neither the Dragon Prince or the Sword of the Morning are able to meet you, for they are one of the many that you must avoid."

"Who else should I avoid?"

"I can't tell…but it would be legions. Your enemy has legions under his influence."

There was a moment of silence as Lyanna mulled the old man's words.

"Do you know the song about Six Maids in the Pool?" the three-eyed-raven suddenly asked.

"Yes," She replied.

"Then, you must know that the song is a prophecy."

"Yes, I've been told by a washerwoman a long time ago that the story is about Florian the Pervert who sees Jonquil bathing naked in the lake."

The three-eyed-raven laughed at her words. "Yes, Florian was a Fool who could not resist such tempting maiden bathing in the lake."

"But do you want to know what truly occurred in the story of Florian and Jonquil?"

Lyanna had to be honest with herself, she knew that the song was about her. Since she had gotten used to bathing in the hot spring naked outside in the open without feeling conscious or shame. The southron lords, however, mustn't view the same thing.

"I think I can guess what happened, Bryden. No need to tell me that the song is about me drawing the attention of the Dark God."

"You are correct. The song is the prophecy about you, Lyanna, and I hope you shan't go to the Tourney to avoid the wars to come."

"If the entire world is at stake here, then it's been decided, I shan't go to the Tourney." She said in determination.

"And stop bathing out in the open as well, Lyanna." The three-eyed-raven said in a serious tone.

Lyanna turned scarlet and replied, "That too."

.

Before they were about to leave for the Tourney at Harenhall, Lyanna cast a spell on herself to make herself sick, where she then started vomiting and having chills.

"What's wrong with her Maester?"

Lyanna heard her father asked as she lay in her bed, appearing sick.

"I do not know yet, my Lord, perhaps after I have observe her for a couple of days, I may be able to find the cause of the lady's sickness."

"Will she be able to come to us to the Tourney at Harrenhall, do you think?" Her Lord father inquired the Maester.

"Based on her current condition, I advise you against bringing her to the Tourney, my Lord. She might very well die if she travels that far south."

"I see." Her lord father said, "Then, we will be leaving for the Tourney without her on the morrow."

"That would the best, my Lord."

.

.

"It work," Lyanna told the three-eyed-raven that same night. "My father has left for the Tourney without me."

"Good," Bryden said, "Now, we must plan for the new future ahead of us."

"What will I do next?"

"What I want you to do is to make sure Prince Rhaegar Targaryen sit the Iron Throne before his Mad father will make a move to have him killed. However, I will give you a moon turn from now to prepare yourself for your next task."

"Why do I need preparation for?" Lyanna asked warily.

"Because I have foreseen the future where you are going to kill the Mad King, Lyanna Stark."


End file.
